


Moon Brewed Beer & Ale

by Guardian_of_Hope



Series: Welcome to Wolf's Den and Pub [3]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Adventures, Blood, Faries, Fighting, Friendship, Ninjas - Freeform, Pack, Stiles Comes Back, Trouble, sword play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and his ninja friends are back in Beacon Hills.  It's been six good years for Stiles, now he has to learn about how different his old friends are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles is now a graduate of the Wind Ninja Academy and an accredited Master Earth Ninja. The one thing I did was write that Isaac's dad owned that graveyard and an attached funeral home that Isaac took over at eighteen. This is for a later plot point and has a role to play.

“Przemyslaw Eryk Stilinski,” Sheriff Stilinski shouted as he opened his front door.

“I just got here,” Stiles shouted back as he slid out of the U-Haul.  “What did I do?”

“You didn’t call and tell me you were coming,” John said, he raised his eyebrows at Karyna and Marci sliding out of their car.  “You didn’t tell me to expect guests either.”

“I told you we were teaching for a year,” Stiles said, “and they aren’t planning to stay here.”

“They aren’t?”  John asked.

“No,” Stiles shook his head, “we’ve rented a duplex down the block from the brewpub.”

“Hi, Sheriff,” Karyna said, “good to see you again.  I know we should have called, but someone lost the car charger and the landlord hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, scratching his ear, “so, can we borrow the house phone?  We were going to invite you over for dinner but…”

“No, go ahead,” John said.  “Stiles, a word.”

“Yeah Dad?”  Stiles asked, watching his friends head into the house.

“You’re rooming with them?”  John asked.

“No,” Stiles shook his head.  “We’ve been calling it a duplex, but it’s a townhouse with a garden apartment.  The girls are taking the townhouse and I’m leasing the apartment.  Completely separate living spaces, except the backyard.  We’ll share the backyard I mean.”  It’s amazing how just being back in Beacon Hills made Stiles feel like his seventeen-year-old self, uncoordinated, barely half-trained, and a walking disaster.

“I see,” John said.

“Yeah,” Stiles said slowly, “I’m not dating either of them Dad, I told you that.”

“Did you?”  John asked.

“Yes!  I told you that every time you ask.”  Stiles sighed, “I told you a long time ago that there was a conversation we needed to have.”

John frowned, “Stiles, you’re…”

“I’m gay,” Stiles said.  “I’ve been gay for a while.  The fact that you judge my sexuality on my wardrobe is hurtful and stereotyping.”

“Stiles, I haven’t done that in years.  I just assumed you didn’t want me to meet your girlfriend.”  John crossed his arms, “Or your boyfriend for that matter.”

“There hasn’t been one,” Stiles said with a shrug, “I just haven’t seen anyone worth it.”

“Not even Derek Hale?”  John asked.

“Where the hell did that come from?”  Stiles asked as he flailed around.  Seriously, you’d think he was seventeen and trying to hide werewolves, Kanimas, and who knew what else from his dad.  “I mean, yeah the guy’s hot but his personality left a lot to be desired.”  He ran a hand through his hair and stared at his dad, “Are you… you’re teasing me!  Really Dad, really?”

John laughed, “I thought you’d take a bit longer, actually.  How about instead of you cooking for me, we all go out for dinner instead.”

Stiles tilted his head, “The girls would probably appreciate it.  Something healthy though, Dad.  Just because we’re opening up a brewpub doesn’t mean that you can clog your arteries on all the food that’s bad for you.”

“Actually, I was thinking seafood,” John said.  “I won’t get anything fried, and it’ll be healthy.”

Stiles grinned, “I know we can talk Karyna and Marci into that.”

“They just came outside didn’t they?”  John asked softly.

“Yup,” Stiles said.

John turned, “Well,” he asked.

“Mister Carter apologized because he thought we were arriving tomorrow and is bringing the key over here for us,” Karyna said.

“Well, after Mister Carter gets here, what would you say to leaving the U-Haul here and going out for seafood, my treat?”  John offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Karyna said.

“I love seafood,” Marci agreed.

Stiles glanced around, “Maybe we should go inside,” he said slowly.

“Don’t worry,” John said as they all headed for the house.  “Scott won’t be back from Oregon until tomorrow and Derek’s in Briarwood for his job.  Isaac has a funeral and two viewings today as well, so he won’t be stepping out of the funeral parlor until late.”

“Did something happen?”  Stiles asked.

“Car accident,” John replied.  “Head on, three casualties.  Just a stupid accident.”

Stiles nodded, “What about Kira and Malia?”

“Kira got back from Tulane a week ago, but you know she doesn’t feel comfortable with me.  Derek said something about Malia going camping.”  John said as the door shut behind them.  “Melissa knows you’re coming, but she promised not to tell Scott or Isaac.”

“Thanks for finding out,” Stiles said.

“Melissa likes to keep me informed,” John replied, “we have weekly ‘our kids are weird’ meetings.”

Stiles chuckled as he looked around, “It really hasn’t changed much,” he commented.

“No, it hasn’t,” John replied and pulled Stiles into a hug, “welcome back son.”

Stiles hugged his dad tightly.  He missed his dad a lot.  It wasn’t that they never saw each other, but Stiles’s hesitation to go back to Beacon Hills and the drive down to the Academy made it difficult for them.  They had usually managed Christmas by taking vacations together, and John had made it to at least one exhibition every year, his high school, Academy, and college graduations, but this hug was different.  They squeezed, not because they knew how long it would be before the next hug, but because it was the welcome home hug, a promise for many more hugs in the future.

The sound of shattering glass and Marci’s scream had Stiles and his dad running for the kitchen.

Peter Hale was standing at the back door with a composed smile.

“Are you okay,” Stiles asked, ignoring Peter.

Marci nodded, “I turned around and he was just standing there, it startled me.”  She glanced up at Stiles and winked.

Stiles sighed, “Why don’t you see about getting out of that mess while I get the broom.”

“I’ll deal with Peter,” John said darkly as he strode across the kitchen.  Stiles headed for the utility room, unable to keep from listening in.  “What do you want Peter?”  John demanded.

“I heard Stiles was back and I wanted to say hi,” Peter replied.

Stiles tried not to glance at the door as he started sweeping up the broken glass, but he did catch a few glimpses of Peter, enough to see the silver appearing in his hair and the wrinkles slowly becoming visible.  He looked tired in a way Stiles had never expected to see Peter, like he was being worn down by something.

Stiles wasn’t curious enough to find out what though.

“You aren’t welcome here,” John said.  “I told you this six years ago, do not trespass on our property.”

“John,” Peter began.

“No,” John said.  “If you don’t remove yourself from the property, your nephew will be picking you up from jail.”

“Stiles,” Peter said.

Stiles carefully leaned the broom against the counter and walked into the living room where Karyna and Marci were sitting uncomfortably.  “Sorry about him,” he said quiet, knowing Peter could hear him.

“Who is that?”  Marci asked.

“Peter Hale,” Stiles said darkly.  “His nephew used to be someone I knew.  I wouldn’t say we were friends exactly.  I’ve never particularly cared for the old creeper though.”

Marci giggled, “He looks like one.”

“All right,” John said, “Peter’s off the property.”  He eyed Stiles, “I think he’s going to be calling everyone.”

Stiles shrugged, “Let him.  It’s not like he’ll know where to find me.”

The doorbell rang, proving to be their missing apartment keys and an embarrassed elderly gentleman.  Mister Carter didn’t stay long after shaking everyone’s hand, but then they’d met when Stiles and Marci had driven up on a long weekend to find a place and rented it.  They’d been looking at being neighbors, but had found the townhouse with its smaller apartment for Stiles and all three of them had agreed on it.  The girls had alternated driving up to see to the furniture deliveries, and all that was left was the things they were bringing from their teachers’ apartments at the Academy.

“Come on Tink,” Stiles said, stealing the keys from Marci, “let’s go get food.  I’m hungry.”

“Only you would get hungry doing nothing,” Karyna said with a laugh.

“Driving is work,” Stiles said, “it’s not like either of you offered to spell me or anything.”

They all climbed into Marci’s SUV.  “I was thinking Mariner’s Reef,” John said.  “It’s over where Maria’s used to be.”

“Aw, I liked Maria’s,” Stiles muttered as they pulled away from the house.

“Health department didn’t,” John replied.

Stiles chuckled, because everyone knew that Maria’s had skirted the line between health violations and it was no surprise that someone had gotten tired of it and closed them down.  It was just another sign of how Beacon Hills had changed, but predictably.


	2. Neverland

“Do you know what the nice thing about hauling boxes and random furniture items is?”  Karyna asked as she carried a lamp past Stiles.

“No need to go to the gym?”  Stiles called over his shoulder.

“Damn straight,” Karyna said.

Stiles laughed as he grabbed the last of his boxes and stepped out, “Holy shit!”  He yelped, dropping the box of books.  Naturally, it landed on his foot.  “Ow.”  He yanked the box off his foot and rubbed it before looking up at Derek Hale.  “Really?  All this time and you couldn’t, I don’t know, call?”

“You changed your phone number,” Derek replied.

“My dad didn’t,” Stiles replied.  “He’s perfectly capable of passing on messages.”

“Hey, Peter Pan,” Marci began, “oh.”

“What’s up?”  Stiles asked.

“The bulb’s out in my closet and I don’t think that shelf is as strong as it looks.  When you have a moment can you help me change it?”  Marci asked.

“Sure,” Stiles said, “let me get this box in the apartment and I’ll come up.”

“Great, thanks Pan.”  Marci gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“Not a problem Wendy,” Stiles replied.  “Hey, this is Derek, Peter’s nephew.  Derek, this is my friend Marci.”

“You’re Peter’s nephew,” Marci said, “that stare has to be genetic; you just pull it off in a distinctly less creepy manner.”  She ducked in the van and came back out with a box labeled books.

“Peter dropped by my dad’s,” Stiles said as he picked up the box again.  “He startled Marci by staring at her through the back door unannounced.  You should talk to him about that.”  He stepped around Derek and headed for his apartment.

“Stiles,” Derek ground out.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, “we have to get this truck back by ten or we’re paying another day.  If you want to be Broody McSourwolf, that’s fine, but I have stuff I need to do.”  He raised his eyebrows at himself as he entered his apartment; he hadn’t nicknamed anyone like that in _years._   Beacon Hills really did steal a person's maturity if they weren’t careful.

“Stiles,” Derek said.

“Whoa,” Stiles set the box down carefully and spun, “No.”  He pointed at Derek.  “This, this is not acceptable.  I know that you never listened to me about going into the bedroom of the sixteen-year-old son of the sheriff, but I draw the line.  You are not allowed in my apartment without an invitation.  Out.  Get out now.”

Derek growled at him and Stiles turned to find his bokken.  Picking up the wooden sword, he slid into a defense stance.  “This is my house,” he said slowly.  “My territory.  If you threaten me here, I will make sure you regret it.  You need to leave.  Contact me before you come over again.”

Derek stared at him for a long moment.  Then he turned around and jumped.

Stiles hid his smile.

Marci had her katana, angled for a low defense while Karyna had her _kaiken_ held loosely.  “I don’t know you, Derek Hale,” Karyna said in a low, dangerous voice, “but I know Stiles.  I have been woken up by his screams as the scars he bore ripped him apart.  I’ve comforted him through flashbacks and panic attacks.  You left him broken, a toy you discarded without thought.  There’s a saying that feels particularly apt at this moment.  Finders’ keepers, losers’ weepers.”

Derek stared at them, his shoulders straight and his back so stiff that Stiles felt twinges of sympathy pain.  Then Derek shoved past them and out the door.

“A bokken?”  Karyna asked as she tucked the dagger behind her, probably in a sheath on her waistband.

“First weapon I could grab,” Stiles replied.  “I didn’t want to hurt Derek; I just wanted to make a point.”

“He wasn’t very friendly,” Marci said.

“Derek didn’t have wonderful ladies like you two to help him heal after he broke,” Stiles replied as he put the bokken on top of a box.  “You get used to him.  Do you need help bringing anything up?”

“I think there are three more boxes if you would grab one,” Marci said.  “When I saw Derek follow you, I went to get Tink because I thought you needed us.”

“We gave Derek a message he’ll be hard put to misunderstand,” Stiles said.  “I’m not alone.”  He smiled a little, “We’ll just see what we can do about sharing the rest of the message.”

“You are not weak,” Karyna said, “You don’t need to be protected.  You are not worthless.”

“Damn straight,” Stiles agreed.  “Now let’s unload that truck and go over to the Den.”

***

The Wolf’s Den and Pub was located in what Karyna considered a good location.  It was downtown, around the corner from the county courthouse, and located on a common parade route.  Stiles said the street in front was closed for street fairs and holiday festivals, meaning they were perfectly placed to attract people for good food after spending hours on their feet.

It had been renovated by a local contractor to specifications Karyna had put together from Stiles’s online research, her parents’ suggestions, and email inquiries to successful microbreweries across America and it looked fabulous.  After Stiles had won the naming rights, he’d proposed using a hunting lodge theme as fitting to the heavily wooded area around Beacon Hills and walking into the pub now that it was done, Karyna was pleasantly surprised.

“Nice,” Marci said as she drifted through the front room.  “I was picturing a lot more animal heads.”

“I told them it was tacky,” Stiles replied, “and stuffed animals freak me out.  Their eyes follow you everywhere.”

“I know,” Marci said.  She looked up at a painting of a group of wolves, “That’s pretty.”

Stiles coughed, “Thanks.  A friend of mine painted that.”

Karyna wandered over for a closer look.  There were five wolves in the painting, one with black hair stood on a rock slab over the others.  A full moon above them gave a silver edging to the wolf’s coat.  Of the four wolves that stood before the black wolf, three were grey wolves, lean and rangy, although one of them was slightly larger than the other two.  The other one was lean and rangy, but had a brown coat.  He stood a bit apart from the others, and there was a hint of challenge in the way it stood.  There was a plaque beside the picture _Pack Meeting by Erica Reyes (1996-2011)_

“Is that Catwoman?”  Karyna asked, remembering a onetime conversation after she’d jokingly called him Superman.

“Yeah,” Stiles said quietly, “she painted it for me.”

“Oh my God, this kitchen!”  Marci squealed.

“Is it okay?”  Stiles called.

“It’s fabulous,” Marci replied as she popped through a swinging door at the back of the restaurant.  “Whoever your contractor was, they did everything exactly right.”

“We’ll have to ask Dad,” Stiles said, “he handled the contractor for us.”

“How are we doing in terms of the beers anyways?”  Karyna asked.

“Thanks to the Bat Brewery loaning their talents and resources, we should have opening month covered,” Stiles said.  “I’m going to start brewing here in the morning and with opening day in six weeks, we’ll be serving our brews, made in the pub, right from the beginning.”

“Bat Brewery, Stiles, really?”  Karyna asked.

“Complain to Bruce and Dick,” Stiles said, “they’re the ones who named it.  Just like they named the Bat Beer.”

“Thank God my parents never really had a legacy to pass on,” Marci said cheerfully.  “No unpronounceable names, no popular namesakes, just a name that makes me sound nice and trustworthy.”

“Good, just don’t let people around here know you know me and we’re set,” Stiles said.  “Beacon Hills has a long memory and a thorough rumor mill.”

Karyna scratched the metal bracelet on her wrist as Stiles and Marci settled on barstools to watch her.  “Okay,” Karyna said, “we have a lot of work yet to do.”

“To Neverland?”  Stiles asked, gesturing over his shoulder to a discrete door with a frosted glass insert labeled ‘PRIVATE’.

“To Neverland,” Karyna agreed with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kaiken is a type of dagger.
> 
> I apologize if you got a notice for Different Paths. I accidently posted this chapter there and caught it.
> 
> Um, yeah, that's pretty much it.


	3. Not Yet A Reunion

Derek Hale paced through the McCall house, waiting for Scott to arrive.  He knew Scott would be torn over driving fast or driving legally, and he hoped Scott would make the better choice.  With Stiles finally back from his self-imposed exile, they would finally figure out what had happened and why Stiles had driven away with those two men.

Melissa was watching him, Derek knew, worried every time he stalked through the kitchen, but she didn’t try to stop him.  Six years of observing the pack had clearly taught Melissa how to handle an uneasy werewolf.

Derek hesitated and listened, sure enough the smooth purr of Scott’s Camry, underscored by the soft bass of his radio filled his ears.  “Scott’s here,” he told Melissa.

“Thank God,” Melissa muttered.

Derek strode to the front door and swung it open as Scott slid out.  “Have you seen him?”  Scott asked.

“Briefly,” Derek replied.  “He’s not exactly open to unexpected visitors.  He said to talk to his dad and arrange a visit.”

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Or we can wait a few weeks and stop by their pub,” Derek offered as he watched Scott climb the stairs.

“Their pub?”  Scott asked.

“Yeah, that job I was doing for the past four months?  It was for Stiles and his two friends.  I should have realized when the Sheriff hired me for it,” Derek said as opened the door, mindful of the full bags of laundry Scott was carrying.

“What’s it like?”  Scott asked as he dropped the bags by the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“A brewpub,” Derek said, “sort of a hunting lodge feel.  They also have a very nice office set up upstairs, but I’m not sure what they’ll use it for to be honest.  It’s a bit more elaborate that necessary for time cards and bookkeeping, even brought a guy in special to oversee it.”  Derek hadn’t liked the guy called Cam, the man had been insultingly rude when questioned and unnecessarily sarcastic, but even Derek could admit that Cam knew his stuff and worked quickly to get his part done.  In contrast, the men setting up the actual brewery had been loud, coarse, and knowledgeable about three things, their job, beer and women.  Derek continued to doubt any of those men really knew the first thing about women judging by their lewd comments to the women on his crew.

“When Stiles wants us to know, he’ll tell us,” Scott said.  “Hi mom.”

“Hey honey,” Melissa said, giving him a hug.  “I’ve got lasagna ready to go in the oven in an hour.  Isaac will be here for supper.  Kira said she might come over too, but she’ll call and confirm.  Malia isn’t back from her camping trip though; she’s supposed to be back tomorrow, so no worries yet.”

“Thank you,” Scott said, kissing her cheek.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.  You are the world’s most incredible mom.”

“Thanks honey,” Melissa said.  “I’ll let you two get on with pack business then.”

“Thanks,” Scott said.  He poured two cups of coffee, “He had people with him?”

“Two girls,” Derek said, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of Scott digging creamer out of the fridge.  “One of them was Korean American, her name was Marci.  The other was African American and we weren’t formally introduced.  Her name is Karyna.  They’re both human, but,” Derek hesitated.

“But what?”  Scott asked as he handed Derek a mug.

“They can move almost silently,” Derek said, “they both managed to sneak up on me at one point, and their smell is… unusual.  Karyna’s was less so than Marci.  If I had to, I’d say that Marci smelled wet.”

“Wet,” Scott said, “but human.  We’ll just have to figure that one out as we go along.  In the meantime, we need to figure out how to talk to Stiles.”

“There’s a rowan tree planted in the backyard, and whoever planted it did something because it acts like mountain ash.  It’s a barrier.”  Derek drank some of his coffee to hide his unease.  He hadn’t even known you could do that with a living tree until he’d careened off the wall and head first into a dumpster.  There had been some interesting looks when Derek had followed the trio to their pub to hear the rest of their conversation.

Scott nodded, “What did Stiles say when you approached him?”

Derek sighed and repeated Stiles’s comments as accurately as he could.  He also told Scott what Karyna had said.

Scott drained his coffee with a frown.  “Stiles left, we didn’t throw him away.  What the hell kind of stories is Stiles telling those people?”  He put the mug in the sink, “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“How?”  Derek said, “He’s probably put down mountain ash all over that house by now.”

Scott’s eyes flashed red, “That won’t hold me.”

“Scott!”  Melissa snapped, “You aren’t seriously planning to break into Stiles’s house.”

“Mom,” Scott began.

“I raised you to be better than that,” Melissa said.  “Stiles even told you how to contact him.  Call John and ask him to arrange the meeting.”

Scott hesitated, “What if he doesn’t want to see us?”

Melissa’s features softened, “Stiles wouldn’t have told Derek that if he didn’t mean for you to contact him.  Whatever Stiles feels went down, whatever he’s been through since, he’s given you an olive branch.  You should take it instead of trying to steal the whole tree.”

“Yes ma’am,” Scott said.  He glanced at Derek for a moment, “I’ll ask Danny if we can use his apartment for neutral ground.  Stiles never had a problem with Danny that I knew of, and Danny’s Pack.”

Derek didn’t bother to hide his wince at the reminder.  A young Alpha over at MIT had lost control during a campus visit day and bit several prospective students.  Derek didn’t know what had set the kid off, but Danny had been one of the victims.  Danny accepted Scott as his Alpha, but Derek knew that they weren’t close, not the way Scott had bonded to Isaac.  Part of that might have been because Danny was going to school at UC Blue Bay Harbor and had another year to go, so was rarely in town, but Derek always thought there was something more to Danny’s distance from the Pack.

“I’ll call John,” Melissa offered, “you talk to Danny.”

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Lydia sighed as she peered through the rain, trying to see the road.  The storm had been holding off all day, clearly just to make the final ten miles of her drive into Beacon Hills even worse than it normally was.  She flicked her blinker on as a rest stop sign passed, hopefully there would be something hot to drink there, and she would see if the storm was going to slacken soon, if not stop.

Carefully, Lydia turned onto the paved driveway and rolled through the woods until there was a wide turning area.  She stopped the car and slid out, pulling up the hood on her raincoat as she did so.  Then she blinked.  “Oh no,” she murmured.

This was not a highway rest stop with bright lights and people.  This was some historical marker in the middle of the preserve.  Lydia stumbled forward, drawn by something she never full controlled, and hated.  She passed the historical marker sign and then slipped through a cluster of pines.

It was almost as dark as night under the trees, and Lydia had to fumble to turn on her phone’s flashlight app.

A pile of bodies lay before her, humans of various ages ripped to pieces violently.

Lydia stared for a moment, and then she screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Danny's a werewolf.
> 
> My dog once tried to jump through a window (there had once been a porch but they closed it in and left the window for air circulation). She'd previously managed to do so as the window had been open. Her utter shock that we had dared to close the window is about what I picture Derek experienced trying to get into Stiles's backyard. One moment, flying majestically into the air, then BANG! window glass/magical barrier.


	4. Meeting Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions minor character death.

Stiles hated driving through storms, but he’d agreed to meet with Scott and Derek and Stiles wasn’t about to let a bit of rain stop him.  He pulled up at Danny’s apartment building and slid out of the car; carrying with him two six packs.  Hopefully the wolves would take the option to sample the three beverages as the peace offering it was supposed to be.  He sprinted up the sidewalk and into the covered walkway, eyes finding the number 107 apartment before he’d even finished shaking off the rain.

The door opened as he approached and Danny stuck his head out, “Hey Stiles.”

“Hey Danny,” Stiles said, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Danny said, “and you?”

Stiles held up the six packs, “Just hoping for a couple of taste testers.”

Danny grinned and moved out of the way, “I’ve been asked to give everyone a bit of space, but Isaac’s here.  I’ve tried your Alpha Ale already anyways.”

“We decided to market it as Double A, actually.  Double A, Double B, and the OC,” Stiles replied as he stepped inside.  “Come by the pub when we open either way.  We’ve got an excellent chef.”

“I’ve already planned on it,” Danny replied.

“I’ll see you on Saturday at least, right?”  Stiles asked.

“Definitely,” Danny replied.

“Later then,” Stiles said with a quick grin before turning to face the people inside.

Danny’s apartment wasn’t small, but it wasn’t exceptionally large.  It felt a lot smaller with three werewolves standing around inside.  Stiles eyed them for a moment before moving to put his burden on the bar height counter in the kitchen.  “I brought drinks,” Stiles said, “samples from the brewery.  You might not be able to get drunk, but you can at least tell me if you like the taste.”  He pulled out a bottle of hard cider and turned, jumping when he realized Scott was less than a foot away.  “Dude, personal space.  You aren’t Castiel and I’m not Dean.”  It was enough to make Stiles think _what the hell, brain?_   Because he didn’t blurt out things like that anymore.

“Stiles,” Scott said tightly.

“Scott,” Stiles said, holding out the bottle, “Hard cider?”

“What is Alpha Ale?”  Scott asked.

Stiles grinned, “It’s one of the beers we’ll be selling at the pub, but we’re actually calling it the Double A.  I’ve also got a nice lager too, Double B.”  He slid carefully around Scott, “There’s enough for all of you to have a bottle of each.  I’m interested in taste reviews if you decide to try it.  If not, Danny will drink it so don’t worry about it.”

“Why Alpha Ale?”  Isaac asked.

“Because I learned to brew from a man who named his product ‘Bat Beer’ and I appreciated his sense of irony?  Because I like alliteration.  Mostly because it was the first beer I made that people actually liked, or at least they didn’t spit it out in ten seconds or less.”  Stiles twisted the lid off his bottle.  “Was there a reason you guys went to such lengths for a meeting on neutral ground?  I’m not a wolf, a rival pack, or otherwise a threat to your territory.”

“Maybe we just wanted to see you,” Scott said.  “It wasn’t like you told us you were leaving.”

“It’s not like I needed your permission to go,” Stiles said.  “I got an offer I couldn’t refuse and I took it.  Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be gone six years, but I needed it.”

“Did you ever think that maybe we needed you?”  Scott asked.

Derek jumped, Isaac stumbled back, and Scott’s eyes went red.

“What?”  Stiles asked.

“Lydia,” Scott said, heading for the door.

It swung open and Danny stumbled in, “You heard it?”  He asked.

“Yeah,” Scott said.

“What happened?”  Stiles asked.

“Lydia screamed,” Danny said.  “She’s supposed to be in town this evening, but I didn’t think she was here yet.”

“We need to go,” Scott said.

“Great,” Stiles said, “where are we going?”

“You…”  Derek growled.

“Do any of you know where Lydia is?”  Stiles asked.  He put his drink on Danny’s table.  “Danny, do you have a black bowl.”

“Funny enough, I do,” Danny said dryly.  “Someone gave it to me for Christmas.”  He headed into the kitchen with Stiles on his heels.

“Imagine that,” Stiles said cheerfully.  “I wonder why they did that.”

“What are you doing?”  Scott asked.

“Scrying,” Stiles said.  He took the bowl from Danny and filled it with water.  He put the bowl on the counter and rested his hands on either side of it.

“Stiles,” Scott said.

“Shut up,” Stiles replied absently as he stared into the water.  Automatically, he fell into meditative breathing, which calmed his racing heart and thoughts as he slipped into a meditative trance.  _Lydia Caroline Martin, show me where you are._

_He recognized the road into Beacon Hills, recognized then instead of now.  Lydia was driving, the radio a soft pulse.  They passed a sign informing drivers of an upcoming rest stop and Lydian put her blinker on.  The image wavered as Stiles wondered about that, then focused again as he shoved the stray question away.  Lydia pulled onto a paved road that ran less than a hundred feet before widening into a turnabout with a historical marker.  Lydia got out of her car and looked around.  For a moment she looked stunned, then troubled, and then resigned as she moved forward past the sign._

_The trees closed in for a moment and then widened in a way that was not entirely natural.  There was a huge pile of dead bodies that had been ripped to pieces.  Lydia stared, and then she screamed, a Banshee’s scream that rippled outward with power._

_There was a flash of light and Lydia’s scream cut off.  Then she fell to the ground.  The vision abruptly went dark and a voice ripped through Stiles’s head, “The Bean Sidhe is ours.”_

Stiles threw himself backwards with a yell as a migraine ripped through him.

“Stiles?”  Someone caught and steadied him.

Stiles blinked rapidly and the room came into focus somewhat.  It was hard to tell through the throbbing in his temples, the way the light felt like glass scraping over his eyes, and general nausea.  Derek was steadying him and Stiles shrugged him off, only to grab the counter as his head spun.

“Stiles,” Scott said, “your nose is bleeding.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Stiles croaked.  A paper towel appeared in his hand and Stiles blocked his nose, trying to find the right words to explain what he’d seen, and not seen.  “Something grabbed Lydia.  She was at a historical marker out on eighteen.  There was a sign for a rest stop a mile ahead.  There was a mass grave too.  Someone killed at least a dozen people and dumped them, knowing that Lydia wouldn’t be able to resist the call of violent death.”

“And the nosebleed?”  Scott asked.

Stiles shook his head then groaned as the throbbing increased.  “It’s just a way of them telling me to back off.  Even sent a message, ‘The Bean Sidhe is ours.’”

“But who?”  Scott said.

“Not a clue,” Stiles replied.  He checked the towel and pressed a clean spot to his nose, hoping not make the pounding worse.  “The wording is familiar though.”  He frowned and looked down at the towel, but there was no more blood.  “I can’t see straight, would one of you drive me home?  I need a painkiller.”

“What about our friends?”  Derek asked.

“They know nothing about the supernatural.  They’ll probably find out, but I respected that you guys would want to know when it happens.”  Stiles said.  “So far as they’ll know, I just pulled a migraine.  Not that surprising really.”

“Why wouldn’t it be surprising?”  Derek asked.

“Karyna got me in the head with a staff this morning,” Stiles said.

“I’ll drive Stiles,” Danny said, “You know I’m not good with what you’re going to be seeing.”

“Thanks Danny,” Stiles said, giving in and closing his eyes.  “You can keep the beer.  Karyna brought a couple of six packs home for us too.”

Warm hands gripped his shoulders, “Come on Stiles.  You’ll feel better soon.”

Stiles leaned into Danny’s side and let himself be steered away.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

If Marci hadn’t spent a year training herself not to react to Stiles’s improbable life, she probably would have gone screaming mad by now.  It was as if the universe had it out for Stiles, and she could trace the cause right back here to Beacon Hills.  Back when Stiles first mentioned coming back to Beacon Hills, Marci had been so tempted to knock him out and drag him as far away as possible.  She had never expected helping a kid with a panic attack would end with two crazy best friends, a brewpub, and someone helping Stiles out of a car with a bloody nose.

“What the hell,” Karyna snarled as she threw open the door.  “Stiles!”

Marci hesitated, but didn’t cross the threshold; instead she leaned around the doorframe, allowing her to wrap one hand around the katana on the wall.  It looked like a decorative piece, but the steel in the sword was deadly.

“I’m Danny,” the man was saying as he let Stiles lean on him.  “Stiles got this migraine while, uh, talking with Scott and Derek so I said I’d bring him home.”

Marci could just bet Stiles had been _talking_ , he’d probably been screaming.

“Bring him up here,” Karyna said, “there’s no need for him to kill himself on those stairs.”  She ducked under Stiles’s other arm and steered them towards the front door.  Marci let go of the katana and ran for the bathroom to grab a small bottle of the painkiller Stiles and his herbalist friend swore by.  When she came back out into the living room, Stiles had been settled on the couch.

“Here,” Marci said, popping the cork, “painkiller.”

Stiles didn’t actually open his eyes until the bottle was in his hand, then he very carefully drank the contents.  Whatever Stiles and his-friend-the-herbalist put in those vials smelled like ass, tasted liked ass, but worked faster than anything Marci had ever tried.  In fact, Stiles was up and moving within thirty seconds, looking wired.  “Danny,” he said, “I know what it is!”

“What?”  Danny asked, looking stunned.

“Lydia, I know who has her,” Stiles said.  “Bane Sidhe!  He didn’t say banshee, it was two words.  He pronounced it as Bane and then Sidhe.  Not many people say it that way naturally, and not that distinctly.  Given the lack of a recognizable _human_ accent, and the back blast, that was a Sidhe.  Probably Unseleighe, because a Seleighe would have just killed her if they were going to notice her at all and Lydia was definitely alive.”

“Do you know how to get her back?”  Danny asked quietly.

“You have to go into the court and that can be dangerous,” Stiles said, “especially since you’d probably have to fight your way back out.”  He turned to look at Marci and Karyna.

“Whatever you need,” Karyna said.

“I’ll be expecting an explanation at some point,” Marci added, crossing her arms.

“Totally,” Stiles said, looking at Danny again.  “Are you any kind of fighter?”

Danny shrugged, “I know how, I mean, it’s not like Derek left me without any clue about fang and claw, it’s just not my thing.  I’m a _goalie_ ; I’m not even a defenseman.”

“Right,” Stiles said.  Because that made sense in the real world.  Marci glanced over at Karyna, but the dark skinned girl was frowning and focused on Stiles.  Stiles groaned, sounding like a dying cat, “I’m going to have to make nice to the puppies, aren’t I?”

Danny snorted.  “If you ever want call them that to their faces make sure I’m there.  The look on Derek’s face will be camera worthy.”

“I’ll give you advance notice and we can put him on YouTube,” Stiles promised him.

“But yes,” Danny continued, “you’ll probably need to make nice with them.”

“Isaac’s least objectionable,” Stiles muttered, starting pass, “but Derek’s actually a moderately decent fighter.  It won’t be Scott because he’d never control himself.”  He threw his hands up, “Why aren’t there more choices?  Shouldn’t Scott want to build a bigger Pack?”

“He tried,” Danny said softly, “about a year after.  The girl died.”

Marci started to reach out to hug Stiles, but Karyna moved first.  They both hated that look on Stiles’s face.  It was almost like his post nightmare face, the one that said that everyone had died in his dreams and he was terrified they were still dead, but he couldn’t check because they just weren’t there. 

“Who?”  Stiles croaked, sounding like he had way too much weight on him.

“Her name was Francine,” Danny said, “everyone called her Frankie.  She was crazy about parkour and hip-hop music.  She was in danger from a windego and Scott bit her in part by accident trying to save her.  She couldn’t make the change.  Scott swore he’d never bite anyone else, not for love or money.  She moved here after you left.”

Marci edged over to Danny and carefully put her hand on his shoulder.  He stared at her for a moment and Marci smiled tentatively.  “I don’t understand,” she said softly, “but my best friend died when I was a kid.  That’s a terrible feeling to have.”

Danny leaned into her grip and smiled back, “I didn’t really get to know her.  I wasn’t… part of it back then.”

Stiles cleared his throat, “I’m going to call Derek, and hopefully we can catch them before they get to Lydia’s car.  Karyna, Marci, here’s the short version.  Werewolves are real, Peter, Danny, Derek, Scott, and Isaac are werewolves, and I can do actual magic, not just our stuff.  We also have friends who are a Kitsune and a werecoyote.  We had a horrible year after Scott was bit and it ended with three friends dead, and a person I probably would have been good friends with if it weren’t for our past history as well.  Our friend Lydia is a banshee, meaning she can find those killed by violent death, sense it coming, and scream really, really loudly, among other things.  Lydia’s been stolen by a Faerie Court, probably Unseleighe because they’re douche nozzles like that.  We’re going to have to go into the Faerie Lands to get Lydia back, which I can do with some help.”

Marci blinked and nodded, “All right, let’s see what we can do.”

Stiles freed himself from Karyna and held up his cell phone, “Step one is to call Derek and get him over here.  Step two is to arm up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frankie is not the future I anticipate for Liam. I just needed a reason for Scott.


	5. The Gathering

Derek stared.  He couldn’t help it really.  As a teenager, Stiles had been too quirky for his actual appearance to register, especially hidden behind flannel and graphic tees.  Yesterday at their meeting, Stiles had looked grown up in dark blue jeans and a dark gold shirt.  Today, dressed in a tailored black suit with a dark purple dresser shirt, with a waistcoat, Stiles looked elegantly dangerous.

A giggle snapped Derek from his thoughts as the little Korean girl, Marci, leaned against Stiles’s shoulder, peering at Derek from around Stiles’s head.  “I think you broke him.”

“Derek?”  Stiles said, tilting his head over to bump Marci.  “Nah, he’s fine.  Probably a little stunned, but fine.”

Derek cleared his throat, “I’m fine,” he said, stepping forward and letting Danny come into the apartment.  “I didn’t realize this was a formal event.”

“We’re just getting ready,” Stiles said.

“Stiles.”

This was Karyna, dressed in a black pantsuit and looking as elegantly dangerous as Stiles.

“I know we haven’t been introduced yet, I’m Karyna Walsh.”

“Derek Hale,” Derek said.  He looked to Stiles, “Danny said you had information?”

“More than that,” Karyna said as she headed into the living room.  “Have a seat, Mister Hale.  We’ve got a lot of ground to cover and not much time.”

The living room was half-unpacked, with boxes neatly stacked in one corner, a half assembled entertainment center against the stairs and a couch with two chairs.  Derek settled uncomfortably on one of the chairs as Stiles and the two women sat on the couch.  Marci, Derek noted, was dressed almost identically to Karyna, save where Karyna had her hair cut short and curly, Marci had long, black hair that was tightly braided.

“Derek,” Stiles said, “I’m going to say a sentence twice.  Tell me where the difference is.”

“Okay,” Derek said.

“The banshee is ours,” Stiles said.  He hesitated until Derek nodded.  “The Bean Sidhe is ours.”

Derek frowned, running the two sentences through his head.  “In the second one, you paused in banshee.”

“Not exactly,” Stiles said.  “The funny thing about the word banshee?  Its origin is Bean Sidhe.  Sidhe, not ‘she’ like a girl.”

“As in, the Fae,” Karyna said.

Derek glanced at her for a moment.  “Yeah,” Stiles said, fidgeting a little, “they know.  I kind of forgot they didn’t and now they’re getting the crash course.”

Marci bounced a bit, “This is all kind of cool.  I always thought there was something up with my high school basketball coach.  She used to work out with us and one day, I went back to get a book I’d forgotten in the weight room, and she was bench pressing three times what we’d ever seen her lift before.  I never told anyone though.”

Stiles gave Marci a fond smile.

“You’re saying that a Fairy Court took Lydia,” Derek asked.

“I’m saying that Lydia was claimed by an Unseleighe Court,” Stiles said.  “I met a Seleighe Knight once, long story, but he told me that Bean Sidhe belong to the Unseleighe because of their nature.  Violent death, pain, destruction, chaos, those are the hallmarks of the Unseleighe.”  He nudged Karyna, who passed him a book.  “You can read this if you want, it’s the best resource on the Sidhe that I have, but I have a plan and I need your help.”

“How can I help?”  Derek asked.  For a moment, he remembered the old Stiles, who would have flailed around, possibly tripped, and taken three times as long to get to the point.  He missed that Stiles, but thought that getting to know this quiet and contained man would be worthwhile.

“Three things,” Stiles said.  “First, we’ll need a representative of the Pack, and I want it to be you since you can actually fight your way out of a wet paper bag.  Second, we need Scott and whomever he chooses at the door to cover our exit, especially if we’re in a hurry.  Third, no matter what happens, once we have Lydia, you get her out.  It’s probably going to come down to a fight to get away, and I need you focused on Lydia.”

“What about you?”  Derek asked before he can stop himself.

“If it’s so bad that you have to leave me behind I’m probably already dead,” Stiles said, “if I’m not, that’s why Karyna and Marci will be there.  Derek, I need to know that Lydia is safe, and I know you can do that.  Will you?”

Derek took an uneasy breath.  He looked at Marci and Karyna, and then at Stiles, wondering what lay behind those deep, whiskey-colored eyes.  “What’s the plan?”  He asked finally.

Stiles’s grin was demonic and sly.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

“I don’t like it,” Scott said.

They had gathered at Derek’s loft to discuss the situation.  After nearly two years of dealing with the hole in the wall, Scott and Isaac had started working together to clear out the place, wearing Derek down as they went until the loft, while still industrial in nature, looked more like a home than a post-apocalyptic bunker, as Stiles had once called it.

Now, Scott paced over the stained concrete mindlessly.

“We don’t have any other options,” Derek said, “I looked at Stiles’s book and we both talked to Deaton.”

“But what about those girls,” Scott said, “How do we know we can trust them?”

“Because Stiles does,” Isaac said.  “We all trust Stiles right?”

“I don’t,” Malia said.  “If he ran once, he could do it again.”

Derek wasn’t surprised to see Scott’s eyes glow red, “He came back, Malia.  That’s the important part.”

Malia, perched on the upper balcony, shrugged as if saying _if you say so._   Even six years later, Malia was more coyote than human.  While this tended to perplex outsiders, Derek found it almost refreshing to have someone else whose first reactions weren’t human.  With three bitten wolves and a human-raised Kitsune, the pack was more human than Derek had ever experienced, and even after so long he had trouble adjusting to the differences sometimes.  At least he’d managed to tone down his first reaction of violence and death somewhat.

“And Stiles’s plan is for us to wait around in the woods?”  Scott said.

“He wants someone to keep the forest side open,” Derek replied.  “If the door closes without an anchor, we could be down there for years, if not centuries without even realizing it.  He also wants to make sure we have a safe exit.”

“We can do that,” Scott said, “I want volunteers for this.”

“I’m in,” Isaac said, “I’ve got nothing to do today.”

“I’m in,” Malia said.

“I’m in,” Kira said, “this is so exciting!”

Everyone stared at the girl on the spiral staircase.

“What?”  Kira asked, “Stiles is back and he brought friends who are _girls._   That means we’re finally gender-equal and Lydia and I don’t have to bribe, blackmail, and beat you guys into submission over movie choices with few to no explosions.”

“But you like explosions,” Malia said.

Kira gave Malia a disgruntled look and Derek saw Scott smile fondly.  He knew the Kitsune and the Alpha were planning to get married after college, even with Mrs. Yukimura didn’t entirely approve.

“So we’re going to help,” Danny said.

“We’re going to help,” Scott agreed.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Marci shivered a little as they got out of the SUV.  The preserve here was old.  She could feel the strength of the trees and the power, a little.  Mostly because of her link with Stiles.  There was water about, underground and above, and Marci let the familiar, cool blue feeling sooth her nerves.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”  Stiles asked with a smile.

“It’s very old,” Karyna replied.

A motorcycle engine roared into hearing and they turned to see a pair of motorcycles pull up in the parking lot.  The first driver was a man with short cut, brown hair, an uneven jaw line, and a worried expression.  The second was a girl with lighter brown hair and a predator’s smile.  Moments later, a pickup pulled in as well.  Derek was driving, and he had two passengers.  The first out was a man with sandy blond curls, wearing a dark blue t-shirt and blue jeans, the second was a Japanese girl who carried a katana.

“Stiles,” the guy on the bike said, “you remember Malia and Kira.”

“Of course I do,” Stiles said easily, he bowed, “It’s good to see you, ladies.”

“Stiles,” the girl on the bike said.

“I’m glad you’re back,” the Japanese girl added.  She bounced forward, and then hesitated, stepping back.

“Hug?”  Stiles asked her.

She smiled brightly and jumped forward to hug him tightly.  “I’m really glad you’re back.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Stiles said.  He eased out of the hug, “Karyna, Marci, the guys are the other werewolves, Alpha Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey.  The ladies are Malia Tate, who is a werecoyote, and Kira Yukimura, a lightning Kitsune.”

Karyna bowed slightly, so Marci followed suit.

“Pack, this is Karyna Walsh and Marci Rhee.”  Stiles clapped his hands together, “Now there’s one more thing we need to do before we start.”  Marci ducked around the car to grab the map and unroll it on the hood of the SUV.

“What’s that?”  Scott asked.

Stiles let his divining crystal drop from his hand to hang from its chain, “We find the door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so Stiles in a suit... I'm thinking it's a black, vested Hugo Boss with a Tommy Hilfiger dress shirt colored "raisen" (as per the Macy's site). I don't know exactly for the Ladies, but definitely something along the lines of an elegant pant suit, something they could also wear when doing business stuff. Black and white though.


	6. The Fairy Court

“So that’s the ‘fairy ring’,” Karyna said, arms crossed.

“You forgot the air quotes,” Stiles replied, “and yes, that’s the doorway.”

It was an unnatural clearing in the preserve, with mushrooms growing in a perfect circle.  With the light from the setting sun, it looked a bit otherworldly.

“Now what happens?”  Scott asked.

“Now, we open the door,” Stiles said.  “Karyna, Marci, and Derek, follow me exactly.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me?”  Scott asked nervously.

Stiles sighed, “Scott, if this were anywhere else, I wouldn’t be so picky, but you’re a good man.  A man with morals, convictions, and all of those things that made you a True Alpha.  Bringing you with us would be like covering ourselves in raw steaks and running through the tiger exhibit at the Zoo, because you’re the main course for them.”

“So you’re protecting me,” Scott said.

“Hell no,” Stiles said.  “I’m protecting my triad.  They’d kill us to get you and that means Lydia would be stuck down there.”  He nodded to Karyna, “Bring up the rear,” Karyna nodded back.  “Marci, don’t let anything happen to my sword, yeah?”

Marci adjusted the katana slung over her shoulder and grinned, “You bet.”

Stiles turned and walked to the mushroom ring and turning sunwise.  He could hear the others following him clockwise around the ring.  As they walked, the rest of the Pack took positions around the ring, watching.  When they had reached the end of the ninth circle, Stiles stepped over the mushrooms and into the ring, now headed widdershins.  Once Karyna was in the circle, the world went still.  Stiles couldn’t hear anything at all, as he walked the circle.  Finally, he blinked and the world changed.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Derek wasn’t sure what to expect when he saw the court, but the smooth, glass green walls and slate floors was not it.  “Nice,” Marci murmured.

“Silence,” Stiles snapped.  Blood scented the air.  Derek stared, because Stiles had cut his hand and swiped his bloody palm on the door they’d come in.  “Let’s go.  Let’s get our Banshee back.”

He led the way down the hallway, ignoring the few shadows that observed them.  No one barred their way, even when they came to a huge set of gold doors with a pair of guards standing outside. 

“We are here to speak with your master,” Stiles said, “let us in.”

Cora had loved fantasy stories, and had left a stack of them in the loft when she left.  Derek had read them and thought he knew what to expect from the court.  This room full of horrible creatures and madness was nothing like what he expected.

On a dais at the front of the room lounged a beautiful man.  He had delicately pointed ears, beautiful green eyes and a lazy smile as he watched a pile of creatures fight before him.  As Stiles led his group forward, Karyna stepped past Derek to walk in unison with Marci, their strides perfectly matching.

Derek could only imagine the image the three of them made in their pressed business suits, unmoved by their surroundings.  Dressed in a pair of jeans and a button down of his own, Derek felt slightly underdressed.

“Stop,” the lord on the dais cried out.

Silence fell in the room.

“Who dares approached unannounced?”  The lord demanded as he sat upright.

“The owner of the Bean Sidhe you stole,” Stiles replied coldly, “and the Pack sworn to protect her.”

“You own the Bean Sidhe?”  The lord said.

“She has been mine for twenty-one years,” Stiles said coldly.  “You have violated our territory, stolen a member of my House, and you try my patience.  I have come to retrieve my Bean Sidhe.”

“I challenge your claim,” the lord said, “you let such a lovely creature go free into the human world alone.  Why should I not bring her to be protected?”

“Because she is not yours,” Stiles replied.  “If you challenge me, then let it be settled in tradition.  Say the words, Elf Lord, or release her.”

“I challenge you for claim of the Bean Sidhe.  My champion will fight for my claim.”

“I accept your challenge, Elf Lord,” Stiles said.  “I will fight for my own claim.  Call forth your champion and let us fight to see who keeps the Bean Sidhe.  To the death!”

The room roared their approval.

“A challenge for the Bean Sidhe,” the Lord cried.  “Let her be brought to witness.”

Moments later, Lydia came into the room.  She was dressed in a black dress of flowing silk, with silver chains and manacles.  Her hair was flowing and unbound, with silver vines twisted within.  She looked like a fairy queen, not a captive.  When she saw Stiles, her eyes widened but she didn’t speak.

“Bean Sidhe,” the Lord said, “this thing claims you are his and he claims combat for that claim.  I have decided to indulge him and you will watch.”

“Your champion, Elf Lord,” Stiles said, “before I grow weary.”

“Then come forth to the ring to meet him,” the Lord said.

Stiles turned to Marci, who offered him the sword.  Stiles gripped the hilt and pulled it free.  “As you wish, my lord.”

“Who are you?”  The lord asked, “What are you called.”

“Master,” Stiles said quietly.  “You may call me the Master.”  He spun the sword idly as he stepped before the dais. 

“And what are you the master of?”

Stiles laughed, “Myself, amongst other things.  Are we fighting or gossiping?”

“Here is my champion,” the Lord declared.

An Elf, easily a foot taller than Stiles and carrying a huge broadsword, stepped into the cleared area.  He had black hair and green eyes and one of his ear tips had been cut off.  He also wore armor.

“This little boy is barely a challenge,” the Champion said, and he leered at Karyna and Marci.  “When I’m done with him, I want them.”

“Sorry,” Karyna said, “I’m already spoken for.”

“Let’s do this,” Stiles said, “or are you scared to do anything more than talk.”

The Champion turned, his sword coming up in a complicated twist.  Stiles ducked, sliding his sword under the Champion’s sword.  He spun away, his jacket swirling around him.  They crossed swords a few times and then Stiles backed away.

Stiles spun his sword, “Getting tired yet?”

“You wish,” the Champion replied.

Stiles lunged forward, sword swinging through the air.  The tip of his sword slipped between the armor joint and the Champion roared.  Stiles jumped backward briefly and then lunged back in, sword flashing.

The Champion, with blood dripping from his armor, lashed out at Stiles.  Stiles blocked each of the Champion’s strikes.  Then he dodged to one side, and his coat tore.

“Dude really?”  Stiles said, laughing as if he was fifteen and innocent.  “This is Hugo Boss; do you know how expensive this is?”

“Does it look like I care?”  The Champion asked as his sword cut another swath of the jacket.

Stiles jabbed forward that the Champion went down.  Stiles sighed as he looked at his jacket.  “Damn,” he muttered.

Then he gripped his jacket shoulder and yanked.

Suddenly, Stiles was dressed in black leather with yellow trim.

“Oh here we go,” Karyna said softly with excitement.

“What are you?”  The Champion roared.

“I’m a Master,” Stiles said, no more smiles.  He lowered his sword into a defensive gesture.  “That’s all you need to know.”

The Champion lunged forward and Stiles swung his sword.  This time, he left a cut on the Champion’s neck.  Then he took the Champion’s whole ear.

“He’s playing with him,” Derek breathed.

“Better,” Karyna said, “he’s hunting.”

“He could have pretended a bit,” Marci said.  “I mean, not drag it out, but at least made it interesting.”

“He’s making an impression,” Derek said.

Stiles spun, his sword arcing deliberately and taking the Champion’s head clean off.

Stiles spun to the dais, “Bean Sidhe, let’s go.”

Lydia lunged forward and into Stiles’s arms.  Stiles ducked his head down and whispered something and Lydia wrenched away and ran for Derek.

“Are you okay?”  Derek asked softly.

Lydia nodded, “I’m okay,” she whispered.

“You will not leave,” the Lord declared.

“Of course I will,” Stiles said.  “We will walk out of here and never come back.”

“Why should I let you?”  The Lord asked.

“Do you know that only one werewolf pack protects a Bean Sidhe?”  Stiles asked.  “In all the human realm, there’s only one.  It’s a special pack too, probably one of the smallest in existence, but definitely the strongest.  They defeated an Alpha Pack.  Among them walks the Wolf Who Lived Twice and the Alpha Who Walked Alone.  The rest of the pack isn’t even Werewolves.  The Bean Sidhe.  The Lightning Kitsune.  The Werecoyote.  Then there’s me.  Even down here, my reputation exists.  I faced an Alpha and gave him to the fire that stole his pack.  I faced a Kanima five times and lived.  I sacrificed myself and awoken the fallen Nemeton to stop a Darach.  And when the Nogitsune came for me, I stepped into the void of bardo, and I walked free.  You ask me who I am, but I am no one.  I am without name.”

“Ears,” Lydia said softly, making Derek jolt.  “Derek, your ears.”

Derek covered his ears, and Lydia screamed.

The sound ripped through the court, causing every one of the other creatures to scream in pain and shy away.  Karyna and Marci flinched but stood their ground.

When Lydia’s scream tapered off, Stiles shoved his hands out, creating black flame like foxfire around his body.  “We are walking out of here,” Stiles said.  “Now.”

He pivoted and stalked past the small group, pausing only to hand his sword to Marci.  Marci spun it into a grip and grinned at him.  Karyna produced a pair of daggers and gestured.  “Center, Derek.”

Derek hesitated, and then looked at Lydia.  _I need you to make sure Lydia gets out._

They walked to the doors, which opened at Stiles’s approach.  Derek wrapped his arm around Lydia’s shoulders, keeping her close to him.

_I need you to make sure Lydia gets out._

The doors slammed shut, and monsters filled the hallway.

“Oh good,” Stiles said, “a work out.”  He lifted his hands and the black flame shot out.

“We’ve got the back,” Karyna said.  “Derek, don’t stop.”

Stiles launched himself after his fire, cutting a path through the group.  Karyna and Marci flanked Derek as he urged Lydia to move faster.

It was a nightmare of blood in many colors, swords flashing and screams.  Black fire surrounded them.

Suddenly, Derek smelled blood.  Not fresh blood, but familiar, dried blood.  He looked around and saw the door with Stiles’s handprint on it.

Derek dragged Lydia over, ducking something flying through the air.  He yanked the door open and stumbled through.

The sounds and smell of the forest flared up around him as Derek hauled Lydia out of the circle.  “Derek!”  Scott roared.

“They’re fighting,” Derek said.  “They were right behind me.”

Lydia stumbled forward to be caught by Isaac, who hugged her tightly.  The ground rumbled and Derek spun, feeling his claws slip free.

Stiles, Karyna, and Marci stumbled out of thin air and out of the circle.  “Get back,” Stiles shouted as they moved.  “Don’t get too close.”

The Elf Lord surged out of the fairy ring and Stiles spun, black fire settling about him in a fox like halo.  “I’m not done with you,” the Lord snarled.

“No, but you are done,” Stiles replied.  “You’ve gone too far, Lord.  Because I warned you.  A small pack, but strong, full of the unique and unusual.  I warned you about me, the Master of no name.”

“What’s so special about you?”  The Lord asked.

“You forgot to ask,” Stiles said.  “You don’t know where you are and which Alpha you challenged.”

“What’s another Alpha?” The Lord began.

“Scott,” Stiles said.  Scott stepped forward, “Please kindly inform the Lord why this Alpha is special.”

Scott grinned, “I’m Scott McCall.  The true Alpha.”

“You know the treaty between the Great Packs and the Fae, Lord.  You’ve challenged the Pack of Beacon Hills.  Oberon will hear of this.”

The Lord stared at Stiles for a long moment, then turned and vanished.  Stiles’s black fire surged into the air and lashed at the fairy ring.  When it cleared, the ring was gone.

“What just happened?”  Isaac said.

Stiles turned, “I just played an Elven Lord in his own court with fire and a few sword tricks.”

“What was that about Oberon?”  Scott said.

Stiles chuckled, “A long time ago, King Oberon and Queen Titania of the Sidhe wrote a treaty with the Great Werewolf Packs, the ones destroyed by the Hunters of long ago.  The treaty sets the sovereignty of the packs, allowing them to grant sanctuary and even Pack membership to non-werewolves.  If an Elven Lord, no matter the Court, stole a member of a Pack that wasn’t a werewolf, then the Pack had forty-eight hours to reclaim their member in a combat challenge.  I won, so they couldn’t keep Lydia.  The fact that he tried is a violation of the treaty.  The fact that Scott’s a True Alpha, the _true_ Alpha, makes it worse.  Oberon could destroy that dumb ass’s court for this.”

“Why?  Why am I so important?”  Scott asked.

“Because once the True Alphas were considered to be werewolf royalty.  Basically, since Lydia is part of not just a Pack, but the True Alpha’s Pack, it would be like the German Prime Minister stealing Queen Elizabeth’s niece,” Stiles said.  “Basically our pointy eared friend just started a war.  You have the right to summon the werewolves and march to war against Oberon, and all of them, even the Alphas, they would follow you.  Now, Oberon isn’t really going to want a war with you, because you live in the human world.  You have access to weapons that would destroy them and they know it.”

“So what do I do?”  Scott asked.

“I can contact Sir Oisín,” Stiles said, “His liege can contact Oberon.”  He gestured, “We should go.”

“Do we have to do it?”  Scott asked.

“If we ignore it, then we’re weak.  We’re saying that the Elves can go after the Packs.  They can take those like Lydia, who have ties to the Courts and the Packs will have no recourse.”

Scott closed his eyes and nodded, “Contact your friend please.”

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear something,” Stiles said as he began to sway.  “We need to go.”  He took two steps and collapsed.

Derek lunged forward and caught him before he hit the ground.

“He’s hurt,” Derek murmured, beginning to smell more of Stiles’s blood.

“We’ll take him to the loft,” Scott said, looking at Stiles’s friends.  “We can see how he’s hurt and help him.”

“We’re not leaving him,” Karyna said firmly.

“I didn’t say you had to,” Scott said, “I was just saying that’s where we’re going.”

“I’ll give them directions,” Lydia offered.  “It would be nice to have a chance to catch up.”

“You know them?”  Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “they were on vacation in Miami last Spring Break and we hung out.”

“We shopped,” Marci said with a bright smile, “I got these killer shoes.”

“Fine,” Scott said.  “Let’s go.”

Derek cradled Stiles to his chest as they headed through the wolves.  Scott led the way, with Marci and Karyna crowding Derek with the others following.

Soon, they reached the cars.  Derek looked at them, “I’ll ride with Stiles in the back of Isaac’s truck.  Isaac, you drive, don’t get us killed.”

“Sure,” Isaac said.

The ride wasn’t as smooth as Derek might have wished, but it wasn’t the usual terror that was Isaac driving with passengers.

It took them twenty minutes to get to the loft and Stiles hadn’t moved.  His heart beat steady, but slow and he breathed slowly.  If it weren’t for the faint scent of blood, Derek would have thought Stiles was sleeping.

Derek carried Stiles into the elevator and watched as everyone else crowded in before the door closed and the elevator rumbled to life.

Scott, last on the elevator, was first into the loft, yanking the door open easily.

The coppery scent of blood flooded out of the loft and Scott froze in the doorway.  “Jackson,” he breathed.

Derek pushed forward, the rest of the group moving at his urging.

Jackson was standing by the window, one bloody handprint pressed against them right next to his bracing hand.  He was barely dressed and covered with deep slashes.  He turned slightly to look at them.  “Alpha,” he said, “help me.”

Then he fell, his bracing hand leaving a smear of blood on the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tempted to laugh maniacally, but I won't do that to you guys. I tried NOT to be graphic, but there's mention of blood, so yeah, there's that. Raise your hand if you saw this coming.


	7. Healing

Danny was the first one to move, he grabbed Jackson huffing what sounded like “No, no, no,” as his hands ran over Jackson.  Finally, he gripped his wrist and felt for his pulse.  Derek eased Stiles onto the couch, listening to Jackson heartbeat at the same time as Danny whispered, “Oh thank God.”

“We’ll undress him,” Karyna said, calling Derek’s focus back to Stiles and his companions.  Karyna was hovering just over Derek’s shoulder while Marci hung back further, beside a nervous Isaac.  “You’d probably end up tearing the leather and that will be a conversation Stiles swore he’d never have again.”

Marci giggled a little as she leaned against Isaac.  Isaac looked down at her in surprise before tentatively wrapping his arm around her shoulder.  “Remember the time with the pygmy goat?”

Karyna snickered.  “Sensei never looked at us the same again.”  She knelt down by the couch and ran gentle fingers over Stiles’s shoulders, pulling at hidden zippers as she worked.

Derek frowned at them for a moment, and then looked over at Jackson and Danny, “How is he?”  Derek asked.

“I think he’s healing,” Danny said, “but it’s so slow.”

“Let me,” Scott said, moving to kneel beside Danny, “maybe I can do something.”

Derek hesitated, torn between Stiles and Jackson.  Stiles, who had come crashing back into their lives with as much drama as he’d left, and Jackson, the first Beta Derek had made.  With Karyna and Marci working to pull off Stiles’s uniform, Derek turned to approach Jackson instead.  “Put him on the table,” he said aloud.  “Kira, get the first aid kit.  If he’s healing slowly, we’ll need to clean the wounds and Stiles will need the kit too.”

“Right,” Kira said, darting through the wall and into the downstairs bathroom.

Malia was hovering by the door, looking distressed.  Derek glanced at Scott, who was pulling pain from Jackson.  “Malia,” Derek said, “can you order up some food?  Chinese.”

“Sure,” Malia said, relieved as she headed to the kitchen.

Isaac was helping Karyna and Marci with Stiles’s leather uniform, if by helping, Derek meant he was awkwardly trying to flirt with Marci as Marci helped Karyna pulled back the torso of his uniform.  “Found it,” Karyna said.

Derek glanced at Jackson, and then hurried over.

“Not that deep,” Marci said, “probably grazed him when his jacket got cut, no stitches this time at least.”

Stiles’s torso was mostly unscarred, but there was one cut running from the top of his left hip to his navel, and a second that ran for about two inches over his heart.  “This time?”  Derek asked, barely keeping back a growl.

Marci shook her head, “Boys and their toys.  Sometimes Stiles got a bit enthusiastic during katana practice.”

Derek shook his head and drifted over to look at Jackson.  The wounds were healing slowly, but they were healing.  Kira and Danny were working together to deal with his wounds.  Scott was hovering, no longer pulling pain, just watching.

“He’ll be okay,” Derek said, putting a hand on the back of Scott’s shoulder.  Scott looked up at him, startled.

“Where’s Lydia?”  Scott asked.

“Here,” Lydia called from the kitchen, followed by a clang of metal.  “Thank you, Malia.”

“Welcome,” Malia replied.

Lydia strolled out of the kitchen, the silver chains gone.  “Sorry,” she said with a sweet smile, “I just wanted to get my hands free.”

“Sorry,” Scott said.

“No, its okay,” Lydia said, “I understand.  Now, does anyone know what happened to my clothes?”

Scott winced, “I think the Sheriff has your car.”

“Stiles took care of it,” Karyna said.  “He talked to his dad last night, told him that Lydia’s car broke down and all.  The car’s at the impound, you’ll have make a statement about how you didn’t notice the mass grave and that you spent the night at our place to get it out.  John said we’d have to give him a real statement over dinner tomorrow.  There is a bag of clothes in the trunk though, some stuff Stiles picked out.”

“I’ll get it,” Marci said, “sorry, I forgot.”  She darted up and away from the couch and was out the door in a heartbeat.

“That girl,” Karyna said, sounding admiring.

“How did you meet Stiles?”  Scott said, “Just out of curiosity.”

Karyna smiled, “The Academy puts a lot of emphasis on group work, and students are split into triads early on.  Sometimes the original triad works, and other times it doesn’t.  When it doesn’t work, the students are moved around until it does work.  Stiles had one partner that he somewhat got along with, but then she switched to a better triad and Stiles tricked everyone into getting Marci.  They went through five different thirds until they got me.”

“You know we love you,” Stiles said weakly.

“Are you okay?”  Karyna asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles said and carefully pushed himself up.  “Lydia,” he turned.

“I’m here,” Lydia said, “and we need to have a talk.”

Stiles grinned, “I’ve told you, I’ve been in love with you since the third grade.  That’s why I claimed you as _mine_ and got passed the Elf Lord.  Thank you for screaming.”

“Yeah, why did I do that, exactly?”  Lydia said.

Stiles shrugged, “It allowed me to tap the part of my brain the Nogitsune affected without seven hours of meditation and way too much vodka.”

“Which is always so much fun,” Marci announced as she bounced back into the loft with a backpack.  “Here are your clothes Lydia.”

“Thanks Marci,” Lydia said.

“I’m still confused on how you all know each other,” Isaac said.

“Lydia threatened him with her brain,” Marci said as she bounced over to lean against Karyna, “so Stiles chatted with her on Facebook, and they met up for campus visit day to rebuild their friendship and Stiles took Lydia to the Bat Brewery for some Bat Beer and me and Robin and Greg were already there so that’s how we met Lydia and then Stiles and I brought Karyna to see Lydia’s guest lecture thingy last year even if we didn’t really understand the math stuff.”

There were so many questions in Marci’s rushed statement that Derek couldn’t figure out which one to start with, Stiles standing up from the couch, twisting to look at his side, distracted him.  “I bet the whole suit is ruined,” Stiles said, he wrinkled his nose.  “It was expensive too.”

“I’m sure it can be fixed,” Karyna said.

“I don’t have the money for that, you know I’ve sunk everything into the brewery,” Stiles said with a sigh.

“We’ll figure something out,” Marci said as she reached out and pulled Stiles into leaning against her.  “How’s your side?”

“Moderately painful,” Stiles said, “they weren’t kidding though.”

Karyna joined their lean, as if they’d forgotten there was anyone else in the loft.  They even stopped talking, just leaning to each other with Stiles’s head resting against Marci while he had his other arm over Karyna’s back.  There was something intimate in their gathering; it was more than a hug.  Derek turned as Jackson groaned, grateful that he didn’t have to stare anymore.

Jackson jerked upright and stared around the loft for a moment, eyes flashing a few times before he saw Derek.  “I knew I made it to Beacon Hills,” he said.

“What happened?”  Scott asked.

Jackson twisted to look at him a minute, “It was hunters,” he said finally.  “They weren’t acting right even before they grabbed me.  It was almost like…” he swallowed, “It was like they were being controlled.”

“Hunters dragged you here from England?”  Stiles asked.

“No dumbass,” Jackson said, clearly coming out of his shock.  “I live in Portland.  Where have you been, under a rock?”

Stiles threw his head back and laughed brightly while his friends giggled, they held onto each other as they laughed until finally Stiles calmed back down.  “Not a rock,” he snorted, “just busy with school type stuff.  I just moved back to Beacon Hills actually.”

“I thought they’d have to pry you out with a crowbar,” Jackson said.

Stiles’s grin faded as his shoulders drop.  “I had my reasons Jackson.  Maybe one day I’ll explain.”

Karyna and Marci leaned into him.  Derek blinked as he realized they reminded him of his family.  How many times had he seen two or more of them leaning into each other, disregarding more than basic modesty in the summer and freely rubbing backs and hugging.  They’d never scent marked each other, because they did it casually every chance they got.

Derek turned back to Jackson, “You need to call your Alpha, don’t you?”

“My wife,” Jackson said, “and she’s probably worried.”

“Phone’s in the kitchen,” Derek gestured.

“Don’t mind the werecoyote,” Stiles said with a slight grin.

Jackson rolled his eyes as he slid off the table, and as he walked past, Derek could hear him mutter, “A werecoyote?  Of course they have a werecoyote, it’s Beacon fucking Hills.”


	8. Discusson

Peter stared up at the loft.  He was too far away to hear much, but he knew what was going on up there.  He knew that the whole Pack was up there.  He yearned to go up there, to be able to join them for a meal or movie.  He wanted to know Stiles’s friends, to apologize for scaring the girl.  He wanted the easy acceptance that lived between Scott and his three betas.  He wished he didn’t have a memory of Scott, looking cold and blank saying, _“Derek asked, so yes, I’ll be your Alpha if you want.  I’ll protect you as long as you don’t kill people or deliberately call trouble on us.  Just don’t expect a warm welcome when you show up.”_

He _wanted_ to go up there and feel like pack, but he didn’t.  He’d burned that bridge the day he’d decided to bate and kill his own niece.

Peter’s phone beeped, he checked it, and then swore.  Anna was reminding him of their reservations.  He started his car and drove away.

JJJJJJJJJJJJJ

Jackson had kept minimal contact with the people in Beacon Hills.  He was able to admit now that it was more about his embarrassment at what he’d done than anything about the people left behind.  After calling his wife, and Alpha, to reassure her and promise he’d be on the road as soon as he could, Jackson stared into the living room of the loft.  Scott, Derek, and Isaac were sitting in the dining room sharing out boxes of Chinese.  Scott kept offering pieces to the girl beside him, and every glance reminded Jackson of the looks he’d seen between Scott and Allison once.

The other girl, the werecoyote, was perched on the spiral staircase, hunched over one of the white cardboard boxes and watching the room suspiciously.  She almost looked like she expected someone to take her food.

Stiles and his friends were perched together on the couch with a couple of boxes, talking and laughing quietly.  As he watched, Stiles and one of the girls started dueling with chopsticks, grinning and laughing as they tried to get something out of one of the boxes.

“Jackson,” Danny said, “come on, I saved you some of the chicken fried rice and an eggroll.  Kira almost took my hand off over this eggroll.”

Jackson grinned, “Sure, sorry.  Hannah wasn’t happy.”  He took the box Danny held out and followed him outside to the balcony.

“We’ll have you on the road home as soon as possible,” Danny said.

“So Stiles really did cut him off from everything,” Jackson said as they settled.

“Yeah,” Danny said, “nobody knows where he’s been.  It’s as if he dropped off the face of the planet.  I tried looking, but it’s hard to find someone when you can’t even spell his first name.”

“Are you sure he didn’t change it?”  Jackson asked.

Danny laughed, “He doesn’t have to, Jacks.  That name is perfect for hiding because people either don’t know it or can’t spell it.”

Jackson stirred his rice for a moment, “You’re right, Dan-Dan.  I still don’t understand what happened.  I mean, Stiles and Scott have always been _Stiles and Scott_ , platonic life partners.”

“That’s better than testicles one and two,” Danny muttered as his phone buzzed.  “Hello?”  He asked.

“Danny, hi!”

Jackson winced slightly, because it was always difficult not to overhear phone calls.  He figured that if Danny’s little sister was having a crisis, she would have sounded more like she was crying, and Danny would kick him out if he wanted him gone.

“Hey Jamie,” Danny replied.  “What’s up?”

“We have a new science teacher and he is so _hot.”_   Jamie squealed, “Like, old guy hot, but still hot.  I sent you a pic.  I can’t wait for school to start if he’s teaching me chemistry.”

“School is important,” Danny said.  “Look, Jamie, I’m kind of in the middle of something.  Do you mind if I call you back later?”

“Sure,” Jamie said, “I just thought you’d appreciate my science teacher as much as I do.”

Danny chuckled, “I’m sure I will.  I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Danny,” Jamie said.

Danny hung up as his phone alerted him to a new message.  “My sister is more boy crazy than I ever was,” Danny said as he let Jackson see the picture.  It was a picture of an older man with spiky black hair, glasses and a grin.  Under it was the text, ‘Doctor Tommy Oliver, PhD in Attractive’. 

Jackson snorted as the door to the loft burst open, “Hey,” Stiles said.  He was wearing a suit; at least, he was wearing suit paints and a purple shirt with a cut on the side.  He ran a hand through his hair as he walked over.  “Karyna, Marci, and I are about to hit the road.  I just wanted so say- what’s that?”

Stiles was staring at Danny’s phone.

“The new science teacher at the high school,” Danny said, letting him see it.

Stiles chuckled, “At least he’ll be better than Harris.  I’ve got to go though.  See you later Danny, nice to run into you again, Jackson.”  Then he was gone again.

The gathering broke up after that, with Danny offering Jackson his guest room.  Jackson accepted gratefully and left.  As the elevator took them down, Jackson heard Malia say something about running the territory before bed.

“Don’t mind Malia,” Danny said.  “She spent half her life as an actual coyote.”

“Your pack is weird,” Jackson said.

“Dude, it’s Beacon Hills,” Danny replied.

MMMMMMMMMM

She ran as hard as she could, ears straining for any sound from the monster.  She ducked under bushes and dodged trees, trying not to whine in fear.  She hadn’t meant to do it, she’d just been running when she’d stumbled into what was apparently it’s nest.

There was a series of steady thumps, and then that grating cry.

Malia leaped over a small bush and stumbled as she landed on a hard surface.  Tar and asphalt filled her nostrils and she whined.  She’d found the road!

Bright lights washed over her as she tried to get herself in motion again.  Brakes squealed in unison with the monster’s cry.  She froze for a moment as a child’s scream filled her ears, and then she bolted again.

The horrible sound of crumpling metal, breaking glass, and a child’s scream pushed her onward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.


	9. Brewing and Searching

Stiles woke up to two voicemails, the first from his dad. _“Hey Stiles.  I know I said I’d meet you for breakfast, but something’s come up at work.  There was a bad car accident on the highway and I’m helping with that.  I’ll call you later.”_

The second was short, _“Meet’s in five weeks.  Bring your A Game and shadow puppets.”_

Stiles snorted and deleted the message.  Then he got ready for the day.

Mediation, sparring, shower, breakfast, and Stiles was out the door and headed to the brewery.

His friend Robin Grayson and her family had helped him stockpile an inventory from their small facility for the past year, trading recipes and trade secrets for labor.  They’d taught him everything they could about making beer, careful about the legalities of teaching him along the way.  His first beers, mixed Dick and Bruce Grayson before he could actually brew, had been bad, but he hadn’t given up.  Not until he’d figured out the mix for the Alpha Ale.  Once he’d turned twenty-one, Stiles had been caught up in brewing every day he wasn’t teaching.  Those efforts filled bottles and kegs in the fridge now, waiting for his new brews to join them.

There was something calming about measuring, weighing, and mixing everything into containers to ferment.  Stiles easily lost himself in his work, cleaning, mixing, and carefully watching everything to make sure he got things properly mixed.  After a brief stop for lunch, Stiles began brewing again.  This time, he didn’t follow the familiar patterns.  He made a change to the hops.  It would change the flavor and maybe even create the elusive Delta brew he’d been trying for.

“Stiles.”

Stiles jumped, spinning.  Derek was standing behind him.

“What the hell?  You aren’t supposed to be in here,” Stiles said.

“I need your help,” Derek said.

Stiles glared at Derek for a moment, then turned back to his work.  “I’m in the middle of something Derek.  Besides, you really aren’t supposed to be back here.  Did Karyna let you in?”

“Yes,” Derek growled, “it’s important.”

“So is this,” Stiles replied.  What was Karyna thinking, letting someone back here?  He had a moment so he started cleaning up, prepping things for his next brew run while he had a moment.

“Stiles, Malia is missing.  She went for a run last night and hasn’t come back.”  Derek said.

“Shit,” Stiles said.  “Hold that thought.”  He tugged his gloves on, grabbed the brew pot and shifted it to the tub of ice water waiting for it.  “You said she went for a run?  Like patrolling the perimeter or something?”

“She does it every night.  What are you doing?”  Derek asked.

“Making beer and listening to what you’re saying about Malia,” Stiles replied.  “By not coming home, I’m assuming there’s no contact from her, not even her cell phone.”

“She left it at the loft,” Derek said.  “This is important.”

“So is my business,” Stiles retorted.  “Not that you care, really.  Did I turn that thing off?”

“I’ve got it,” Derek said.  “Will you help us?”

“I need to cool this, pitch the yeast, and put it in the fermenter, and then I’ll help.”  Stiles sighed a bit, because the brew pot was heavy, even with a two-gallon limit.  He eyed the thermometer on the pot and nearly swore.  It was below boiling, sure, but he wanted it much lower.

“Stiles, we need your help,” Derek said.

“I get that really,” Stiles replied, easing the pot into the water fully.  Then he walked over to start getting the fermenter ready as he spoke.  “Malia’s in trouble of some sort, you can’t find her to help her, and I have a skill for scrying, really, that’s not that difficult.  Now here’s my position.  I’m a brewer, I make beer.  It’s an involved process that can take three weeks to finish.  This is a small batch of wort, for the beer that I’m going to sell in the brewpub you walked through to get here.  It has a lot of ingredients in it, ingredients that are rather expensive.  Do you know what happens if I walk away right now?  It’s ruined.  Hours of work, not just here in the brewery, but at home with the numbers and formulas.  Ingredients that I have pay to for will be wasted.”

“Stiles,” Derek snapped.

“I’m not babbling, I’m explaining,” Stiles snapped as he checked the pot and growled softly.  It was getting there.  Then he turned on the water in the sink as hot as it would go and dumped the cleaner in.  “If you want to be useful, you could get one of the small, half pound containers of ice from the freezer.  They have a green lid.  Just grab it and dump it in the tub over there.”  He filled the smaller sink and slid the smaller implements in them.  “Besides, I can’t just scry for her like I did Lydia.  I have to do something a bit different that takes longer than five minutes to pull off.”

“Why not?”  Derek called, and Stiles heard the freezer open.

“Because yesterday I fought my way out of a Fae Court with magic and I’m still magically drained,” Stiles replied.  “Personal magic is like a battery, not a well, Derek.  It runs out and has to recharge.  Finding Malia is going to take time if I don’t want to fall into a magical coma.  The more time I take between magical workings, the less likely I’ll fall into the damn coma.”

There was a splash as something went into the tub.

“Thank you,” Stiles said as he continued cleaning, “What’s the temperature on the pot?”

Derek was clearly getting annoyed, “Eighty-two.”

“Excellent,” Stiles said.  “It just needs to hit seventy-nine and I can pitch the yeast.  Then I stir it well and pour it in the fermenter.”

“What?”  Derek asked.

“When I pour the wort into the fermenter, I’ll see what I can do about a locator spell,” Stiles said.  He hesitated for a moment.  “There was a car wreck this morning on the highway.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”  Derek asked.

“I’m not sure.  I’m not psychic.  It’s just on my mind.”  Stiles replied.  “Do you mind watching the temperature on the pot?  I can get some of this cleaning out of the way faster.  I’m cleaning because having sterilized equipment is important to brewing.  Using dirty equipment can introduce bacteria to the beer that could make a person sick or even kill them.”

“I’ll help with the cleaning,” Marci said as she stepped through the doors.

“Thanks Marci,” Stiles said.  “Can you start doing surfaces?  I’m about done for the day.”

“Not a problem,” Marci replied and headed for the cleaning closet.

“It’s at seventy-nine,” Derek said after a moment.

Stiles finished up and cleaned his hands.  Then he grabbed the yeast and a spoon and hurried over, “Thank you Derek.”

He added the yeast and stirred it in.  “If you’re so drained,” Derek began.

“I slept,” Stiles said.  “It’s part of why I passed out last night too.  I just need another day to be at full strength again.  I’m physically fine.”

Marci coughed.

“Fine, I’ve got a bruise on my arm from Karyna in sparring this morning, but I’m physically fine.”  Stiles said.  He regarded the pot for a moment, then hauled it out of the ice water and carried it over to the fermenter.  He tried to adjust his grip, but almost dropped the pot.  Derek caught and steadied it.

“He’s not fine,” Marci said.  “He’s tired and won’t admit it.”

“This just needs to be poured in that bottle?”  Derek asked, staring at Stiles.

“Yeah, but I can do it,” Stiles replied.

“Let me,” Derek said.  “I know you can, but it’s okay to ask for help sometimes.”

Stiles’s laugh was bitter, “How long have you been waiting to throw that in my face?”

“I haven’t,” Derek replied.

Stiles knelt, gripped the bottle, and steadied the funnel, “Pour it in then.”

Derek tilted the pot over and let the liquid slowly pour into the funnel.  “It’s not that I don’t think you can do this Stiles,” he said softly.  “That was never something I thought.  It’s just that I am a werewolf and strong.  I can do things to help if you ask me.”

“I’m letting you pour the wort aren’t I?”  Stiles asked dryly.

“Only because I forced the issue,” Derek said.  “I don’t like doing that, Stiles.”

“That’s new,” Stiles said.

“Six years is a long time.”

The pot was empty and Stiles scrambled to get the airlock in place.  “Please put the pot in the big sink to be cleaned?  I’m going to put this in the fermentation room.”  Stiles checked the label and stood up.  He blinked three times to clear his head and then lifted the bottle to haul it over to the room.

That done, Stiles slipped his arm through Derek’s arm.  “Let’s go upstairs to Neverland and see what I can do for Malia.”  He grinned over at Marci, “Thanks for your help, Wendy.”

“No problem, Peter Pan,” Marci replied.

Stiles guided Derek up to the technological wonder of Neverland.  “This is Neverland?”  Derek said.

“We’ve got all the best toys,” Stiles said.  “This is our everything room.”  He headed over to his locker and pulled out a toolkit, then collected some maps from the stack.

“What have you been up to?”  Derek asked.

“I’m legally not supposed to tell you,” Stiles replied as he unrolled the first map and put down weights.  “Seriously,” he turned to Derek, “there were nondisclosure agreements and everything.”

He took a tripod out of his toolkit and set it up, then a pendulum.  “The wonderful thing about divining is that it takes next to no magic.”  He grinned at Derek, “You can do this if you wanted to even.”  He set the pendulum in the tripod and set it to swaying.  “Derek, I need you to think of Malia.  Just Malia.”

Stiles closed his eyes for a moment and pulled up everything about Malia that he had.  Then he looked at the pendulum.  After a moment, he moved the tripod over and watched.  After four tries, the pendulum stopped swaying, pointing at the map at an angle.  “Now what?”  Derek asked.

Stiles studied the spot, and then pulled out a new map.  “Now we narrow it down.”  He rolled the first map and unrolled the second.  He set the weights down and put the tripod back down, setting it to swaying again.

“Think of Malia again.”  Stiles said.

This time, the pendulum stopped almost instantly and Stiles sighed.

“What?”  Derek asked.

“That’s where her mom’s car is,” Stiles said.  “I remember that.”

“I have to go,” Derek said after a moment.  “Thank you.”

“Let me know if she’s okay,” Stiles said.

“You don’t want to come with?”  Derek asked.

“Not today,” Stiles said.  “I’ve got to clean the brewery, and I’m exhausted from yesterday.  I’d rather break today and be ready to fight tomorrow.”

Derek stared at him for a long moment, and then pulled out his phone, dialing as he left.

Stiles waited until Derek was out of sight, then he put away his magical gear and tapped the tabletop, bringing up the satellite imagery of the woods.  “Everything all right?”  Karyna asked.

“Just marveling at the luddites,” Stiles replied as the picture resolved itself.

“Ancient weapons and hokey religions,” Karyna said as she leaned against his shoulder.

As the picture became clear, Stiles swore as Karyna whispered, “Oh my god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my most popular fic ever. That's a little nerve wracking. Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments. I appreciate it.


	10. Werecoyotes and more

Derek raced through the Preserve, following Scott and Isaac.  As he moved, he was reminded of Stiles’s words in the brewery, the way he’d demanded to finish his work before helping.  Would this be how things would go now?  Would Stiles insist on not being involved all the time?  Why did he come back at all if not for the pack and his father?

Scott led the way down a steep embankment and the car came into sight.

The scent of coyote was strong and fresh, laced with terror, sorrow, and guilt.

“Malia?”  Scott asked, kneeling to peer into the car.

There was a whimper and a scrambling sound.

“Malia, are you okay?”  Scott pushed.  “I need to know you’re okay.  Will you at least come out so we can see you?  Whatever happened, it will be okay.”

Derek looked at Isaac, and then knelt down to look at the cowering coyote.  “Malia, you need to come out.  We’re not mad at you; we just want to know you’re okay.”

After a long moment, a whining coyote crept out from under the car, staring at them with soulful eyes.  After a moment, a human woman crouched shivering before them.  “Malia, sweetie,” Scott said, “come here.”

Malia crept up to Scott, whining anxiously as Scott pulled her into a hug.  “Scott,” she said, “I did it.”

“What did you do?”  Scott asked gently.

“I caused the wreck.”  Malia whispered.

Scott looked at the car but Derek cleared his throat, “Not that one Scott.  There was a bad wreck earlier this morning.  Stiles mentioned it to me.”

“It’s my fault,” Malia whispered.  “I ran in the road.”

“Oh honey,” Scott murmured, pulling Malia in close.  “It’s okay.  It’s going to be okay.”

Derek was suddenly reminded of Scott with his little cousin Elizabeth.  The girl had come to stay with Melissa and Scott for part of the summer while her parents were negotiating their way through her mother’s remarriage and what that would mean for Elizabeth.  Something had happened, Derek had only arrived in the aftermath, when Elizabeth had hidden herself under the guest bed and Scott had talked her out from under it.  Melissa and Scott had never mentioned the full story, but Derek had always wondered.

“Malia,” Scott said, “you need to put some clothes on.  Then we’re going to go to Derek’s loft.”  Isaac handed Derek the backpack.  “Isaac, I want you to go by the station and see if you can learn anything.”

“I can do that,” Isaac agreed.  “I’ll meet you back at the loft.”  He turned and ran.

Derek pulled out Malia’s clothing from the backpack and passed it to Scott.  He’d never been as hesitant about body modesty as the rest of the pack, but Scott had learned to adjust after Malia and Cora had both proved themselves willing to walk around the loft half-dressed, if not naked as the mood struck them.

Malia pulled on her clothes, allowing Scott to rest a hand on the back of her neck or on her back as she did so.  “Let’s get back to the loft,” Scott said.  “We’ll figure it out from there, okay?”

Malia nodded even as she buried her face into Scott’s shoulder for a long moment.  Scott slipped his arm around her and urged her to start moving.  Derek settled the backpack over his shoulders and followed, senses alert for trouble.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Stiles was pacing with agitation outside the loft when Scott and Derek pulled up.  “Are you all okay?”  Stiles blurted out as soon as the doors to the truck swung open.

“We’re fine, but this might not be the best moment,” Scott said as he eased Malia out of the truck.

“Malia?”  Stiles said, quietly.  “You okay?”

“I will be,” Malia replied after a moment.

“I need to talk to you, Scott,” Stiles said, “when you have a moment.”

Scott eyed Stiles, noting the agitation, the rolled up paper gripped in one hand, and the odd smells that surrounded him like fumes.  Then he glanced at Derek, who was frowning at Stiles.  “Sure, if Derek doesn’t mind you coming up smelling like that.”

“Like what- oh, never mind,” Stiles shook his head, “I’ve been making beer all day, I smell like a brewery.”

“Let’s get upstairs,” Derek said.

Scott nodded and urged Malia into the building.  He had never been as grateful as when he realized that Derek’s neighbors had a different elevator and entrance than the one Derek used.  Derek’s went straight up to his loft while the other elevator was more public.  He still wasn’t sure if Derek rented or owned the building, but no one had yelled at them for redesigning the loft so he assumed all was well on that front, and if it weren’t, Derek would have let them know.

Having a private elevator was useful for when people came in bloody, upset, or traumatized because there was no one to ask questions.

In the loft, Scott hugged Malia tightly.  “Go get a shower, Malia.  I’m going to see what Stiles needs while you’re getting cleaned up.”

Malia hugged him back, “All right.”  She hurried for the bathroom without looking back.

Stiles had unrolled his paper and put it on the table where Derek stared at it, eyes wide.  “That is what I think it is, right?”  Stiles asked.

Derek nodded slowly.

“What?”  Scott asked as he hurried over to join them.  It was a picture of a wooded forest with something flying over it.  Scott’s mind first called it a bird, but birds didn’t have that sort of wingspan or body.  They certainly didn’t have a tail like that.  “What is that?”  He asked, glancing at Derek.

“How did you get that?”  Derek asked Stiles.

“I couldn’t scry,” Stiles said, “but Neverland has an impressive computer set up with idiot-friendly user interfaces.  I used our satellite uplink after you left.  I wanted to see if I could spot Malia and make sure she was okay.  Instead, I found that flying around.  The satellite is tracking it, but I wanted you to see it firsthand.”

“What is it?”  Scott repeated a bit louder.

Stiles and Derek both jumped as if they’d forgotten Scott was there.  “It’s a gryphon,” Derek said.

“It’s nesting somewhere in the Preserve,” Stiles added, “but we’re not sure where, though.  We’ve seen it go to ground a dozen times, always at a different place.”

“Is it a threat?”  Scott asked after a moment.

“Mostly they’re not,” Stiles said.  “Karyna phoned a friend and got some information.  Gryphons are intelligent, they often speak several languages and they mostly exist on a diet of fish unless preparing for mating season.  We should be able to go talk to it and find out what it wants.”

“You have a friend who knows about gryphons?”  Derek asked.

“His girlfriend doesn’t like me,” Stiles said, “but she likes Karyna, so Karyna called her.”

“What is that?”  Malia asked, wrapped in a towel with her hair wet.

“That’s a gryphon,” Scott said.

Malia pointed a shaking hand at the creature, “That’s what chased me last night.  That’s why I ran into the road.”  She stared at it for a long moment, “I thought I’d stumbled into a nest or something.”

“Do you know where?”  Scott asked after a long moment.

“No,” Malia said, “but it chased me for a long time.  I even forgot where the road was.”

“That’s not right,” Stiles said, “Ch- our friend told us that gryphons ignore humans and such unless they actively attack the nest.  They’re smart enough to tell the difference between and attack and an accident.  It shouldn’t have chased you.”

Scott knew Malia was obsessed about knowing all the roads that ran through the Preserve.  She avoided them if she could and was very careful about crossing if she couldn’t.  Causing another wreck had almost sent her into shock.

“Derek, take Danny and track Malia in a bit.  You know Danny’s the best tracker out of all of us,” Scott said.  “We need to have a chat with this guy, and soon.  If nothing else, Malia can apologize if she stumbled over its babies.”

Stiles nodded slightly, “Look, Karyna’s keeping an eye on the satellites.  I need a shower, among other things.  I’ll be back at full power the day after tomorrow if you need my magic.”

“That bad?”  Scott asked.  If Stiles were that weak, they couldn’t let him magic them out of every situation.  It would be too dangerous.

“Not really,” Stiles said, “It’s just that I did a number of difficult things in rapid succession against a fairy court.  It requires twice the energy to fight the Fae that way.  Most of what I can do is barely noticeable, in terms of energy cost.  Dealing with the gryphon is probably going to require a fraction of the energy the Fae did.  I also left a message for my friend about what happened to Lydia.  We’ll have to wait and see what he says.”

“Thanks,” Scott said.  “I appreciate what you’ve done to help, Stiles.  Call us if you find out anything else.”

“Call me if you need me,” Stiles replied.  “I can’t work magic, but I can fight if you need me to.”

“We will,” Scott said.  “We’ll call if we need you.”

Scott was grateful Stiles couldn’t detect a lie.  He wouldn’t call the other man for a few days, just to give him a chance to rest up.  Stiles never did learn when to take a break.


	11. The Not Battle

Stiles was just wrapping up a brew when Karyna stormed into the brewery, “Do you have anything going?”  She demanded.

“Just wrapped up,” Stiles said, “then it’s clean up and the next batch.”

“It’s going to have to wait,” Karyna said.  “The puppies are being stupid.”

“Define stupid,” Stiles said as he shut the door to where the fermenting bottles were stored.

“They’re on their way to play with the gryphon,” Karyna said.

Stiles nodded slowly, “That definitely qualifies.”  He looked around the brewery for anything left undone, threw the strainer in the sink with the brew pot, and nodded again.  “I hate to say this, but I need to shower first.  They could smell me yesterday, and I don’t want to offend the gryphon.”

“Point,” Karyna said.  “Marci will be back here in ten.”

“I’ll be ready in fifteen,” Stiles replied as he hurries through the brewpub.  “Stupid werewolves.  Clearly there’s information to be had, they could ask.  They’re going to get themselves killed.  Why do I let them get to me every time?”

“Beats me,” Karyna called after him.

Stiles knew though.  He’d never admitted it, but he suspected a few other people had figured it out.  Six years ago, he had dragged his best friend into the woods looking for a dead body and his friend had been turned into a werewolf.  He got Scott into the whole thing, and if he couldn’t get him back out, he could _at least_ help him get through it.

Showered, changed into something other than ratty jeans and an old t-shirt, Stiles bounded downstairs to find Marci and Karyna sitting on the bar together.  “I thought we agreed that wouldn’t be a thing,” Stiles said as he rolled his shoulders.

“You said,” Karyna said, “and when we open, it won’t be.  We’re just discussing the plan.”

“I vote for figure it out when we get there, because if it’s peaceful, we’d do better to be subtle,” Stiles said.

“If it’s violent, we’re going to stop them and then sort it out,” Karyna replied, “I’ll do the talking.”

“Fine by me,” Stiles said, “I’m not the Red in this scenario.”

Karyna smirked at him.  “We’re only taking this to Ninja level,” Karyna said as she slid off the bar.  “I don’t want to reveal these unless we had to.”  She lifted her wrist to let the morpher catch the light.

“Let’s get going,” Marci said as she slid off the bar.  “I want to have real food tonight.”

The wolves and the gryphon weren’t actually fighting, but they were growling, and the wolves were shifted to their beta forms.  They had met up in a meadow, big enough for them to have their Battle Royale, but not so big that Stiles was tempted to make a Bambi reference.

Karyna looked at Stiles and Marci as she reached for her shoulder.  She ripped her clothes away to reveal her leather training uniform.  Stiles and Marci followed suit.  Karyna then stalked forward, elemental power creating red balls of light around her fingers.

The gryphon lunged for the werewolves, but before the Pack could react, Karyna did.  Wind slammed into the meadow, flattening the grass before racing to surround the combatants like tornados.  “That’s enough,” Karyna said firmly.  “There’s no need for fighting here.”  She glared at Scott for a moment before turning to the gryphon.  “I am Karyna, Master Air Ninja of the Wind Academy.  My triad is Stiles, Earth Master and Marci, Water Master.”

The gryphon growled and lunged for her.

“That’s not right,” Marci said.  “Gryphons are supposed to talk, not attack.  That’s what he said.”

“Something’s wrong,” Stiles said.  “Karyna, something’s wrong with him.”  He stepped forward, hand outstretched.  “Something’s riding him.”  He reached into the earth, now with magic but with the _other_ sense that had made him eligible for the Academy six years ago.

“Can you fix it?”  Karyna asked.

“No,” Stiles said.  “This isn’t something I read up on.  _Gryphons_ aren’t something I read up on before yesterday.  I can’t even bind him long enough to check my sources.”

“What do we do then?”  Marci asked, “You know I can’t do _that.”_   Perhaps you’d have to know her to know that Marci was still upset that she’d never managed to master the more advanced water healing.

“We can’t kill him,” Karyna said, “or bind him.  Whatever is riding him, would he kill?”

“Possibly,” Stiles said.  “Malia was just chased, but he might kill.”

“How much time will it take to figure out how to help him?”  Karyna asked.

“Depends on what help I can get,” Stiles replied.

“Are you going to let us out any time soon?”  Scott shouted.

“Are you going to try to kill a gryphon that isn’t in control of himself?”  Marci asked.

“No,” Scott said.

Karyna snapped her fingers.  “I’d suggest you put a deadline on yourself, Stiles.”

“Scott, is Deaton at the vet clinic?”  Stiles asked as the Alpha approached them.

“Until six,” Scott replied, “why?”

“Who else do I have to ask?”  Stiles asked.  “Karyna, Marci, I’ll see you for sunrise meditation.”  He stepped back, turned and launched into a ninja streak.  As he ran, he heard Karyna’s yell of outrage as she realized he’d left her to explain the ninja thing to the pack.

Stiles slowed down outside the vet clinic.  He stopped in an out of the way alley and checked for spectators before he jogged across to the clinic.  He pushed the door open, “Doctor Deaton?”  Stiles called.

“Stiles,” Deaton said as he stepped out of the back.  “I heard you were back in town.”

Stiles smiled, “It’s good to see you again, sir.  I had some interesting adventures because of you.”

“Me?”  Deaton said.

“You told me I was a Spark,” Stiles said.  “I met someone who could train me while I was away.”

“And now you’ve come back,” Deaton said.

“There were reasons,” Stiles said.  “Not the least that I’m a combative Spark.  I’m really looking forward to finishing this conversation, but there’s a problem.”

Deaton chuckled.  “That sounds familiar, how can I help?”

“There’s a gryphon in the Preserve,” Stiles said, “and something’s controlling it.  I don’t know how to break that control and I’m still drained from the Fae Court battle.  I have some contacts, but you’re right here and my sensei was pretty adamant about using all available resources.”

Deaton nodded, “I’m going to need to check my books.  Come on back and let’s see what we can find out.”

Stiles pulled out his phone and began dialing as he followed Deaton.

As soon as someone picked up, Stiles began talking, “Ms. Rocca, this is Stiles Stilinski.  May I please speak with Charlie?”

KKKKKKKKKKK

Karyna watched Stiles streak off before turning to Scott, “We should move so that I can let our friend go.  I’ll explain things.”

“Let’s do that,” Scott said.

“You’re going to have to lead, because I’m not exactly sure how to get out of here on foot.”  Karyna said.

With the Pack, and Marci, following, Scott led the way through the Preserve.  Once they were clear, Karyna released the air holding the gryphon.

“So, ninjas,” Scott said after a moment.  “That’s a thing now?”

“Ninjas have always been around,” Karyna replied, “we just don’t like to draw attention unless we have to.”

“And that whole water, earth, air thing?”  Scott asked.

“Ninjas have the ability to channel elements,” Karyna said.  “My triad, that is, Stiles, Marci, and I, trained at the Wind Academy, which teaches air, earth, and water elemental control.  There’s also the Thunder Academy, which teaches lightning control, among other elements.  The Academies have been an open secret for over ten years now, ever since Blue Bay Harbor’s Ninja Storm Rangers fought Lothor.  Training at the academies run differently, depending upon when you’re recruited.  Stiles and Marci were still in high school, so they were long track to include their academics.  I got my diploma early, so I could focus on my ninja training until Stiles talked me into getting my degree.”

“So you’re all master ninjas?”  Kira asked.

“Yup,” Marci replied.  “We took the extra studies for mastery.  It’s part of why our training took so long.  We only graduated last year.”

“What can you do?”  Kira asked.

“I manipulate and draw power from water,” Marci said.  “Mostly it’s just a useful way to win water wars, or freak people out when I walk on water.  I mean, I can use it in combat, but how often does that come up?  Stiles keeps talking about making beer from the water I draw out of the air, but we haven’t tried it yet.”

“That’s cool,” Kira said, “I can work with electricity and lightning, and fox fire.”

“Right, you’re the Kitsune,” Marci said.  “Stiles was talking about you last night.”

“He was?”  Kira asked.

“He said you were good with a katana and that we should spar sometimes,” Marci said.

“You use a katana?”  Kira asked.

“Yeah,” Marci said, “I mean, we studied other weapons, and hand to hand, but the katana has always been my favorite.  Karyna prefers hand to hand, and Stiles never showed a real preference even though he’s good, but I am the katana queen.”

“We definitely need to get together and spar,” Kira said.  “I don’t have that many sparring partners.”

“After we deal with our winged friend, I’ll be happy to arrange something,” Marci replied happily.

“We’d better change out of our leathers,” Karyna said.  “We wouldn’t want people to get ideas.”

“How do you do that?”  Scott asked.

“Magic,” Karyna said, “I think.  Stiles can explain all the details.  All I really ever understood was that the change was based on our elemental connection, and it’s sort of a low-level morph, like Power Rangers do.  It just makes it harder for us to get hurt.  It doesn’t enhance anything.”

“I have way too many questions,” Scott said.

“We’ll see how many we can answer,” Karyna replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rather like the image of Kira and Marci geeking out over different swords and bragging about what type of swords they've seen and just becoming friends that way.


	12. Missing

Meditation had been torture to learn.  Stiles’s ADHD had caused him no end of trouble with meditation.  He’d even been kicked out of sunrise meditation after one too many disruptions.  Then Dustin had stepped in and had taught him the way Dustin had learned it from one of his own mentors, starting small and extending the time he spent in meditation until he could handle an hour in class.  Meditation had become relaxing, as he got better at it.  It was a relief to empty his mind and breathe without something intruding.

Stiles often kept that since of calm until he walked out the door.

Today was not to be one of those days.  Someone was banging on the door when he wandered in from the backyard.  Stiles hurried across the room, put one hand on the mountain ash bokken he kept by the door, and cautiously opened it.

Doctor Oliver stood on the doorstep looking frantic.  “You’re Stiles Stilinski, right?”

“I am,” Stiles said as he released the bokken and stepped back, “come in, please.”

“Thank you,” Doctor Oliver said. “I need your help.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Stiles replied, “what’s going on, Doctor Oliver?”  He closed the door and followed the doctor into his box-filled living room.

“Lexi and Leigh are missing,” Doctor Oliver said.  “Dustin said you had a command center in town?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, “let me throw some jeans on.  When did they go missing?”

“This morning.  They were walking to the high school because I had to go to Wal-Mart before class and they didn’t want to get up an hour early.  They never made it to school.”  Doctor Oliver said.

Stiles nodded as he ducked into his bedroom and got dressed.  “You saw them this morning, though, right?”

“We had breakfast together,” Oliver said.  “We do that every day.  They’ve walked to the high school all the time.”

“Aren’t they twelve?”  Stiles asked as he walked back out, adjusting his coat.

“Thirteen, and they skipped a grade,” Oliver replied.

Stiles picked up the case with his weapons in it and slung it over his shoulder.  “Let’s go down to the pub.  Do they have a history of skipping school?”

“Not without telling me first,” Oliver said, “I may not always approve, but we try to be honest with each other.  Leigh would have texted me at least.”

“Not Lexi?”  Stiles asked as they walked up the street.

“Ze trusts Leigh to take care of it,” Oliver said.

“Do you want to take your car or do you want to walk?”  Stiles asked, “I usually run for the exercise.”

“I’ll drive,” Oliver said.  “The van’s over here.”

Because of course, the world’s most legendary ranger would drive an actual van.  Stiles slid into the front seat and refrained from commenting on how mundane the van made him see.  “So, why come to me?  My dad’s the Sheriff.”

“Two reasons,” Oliver said, “Dustin said you had a cadet morpher, and you have a command center.”

“Technically we call it Neverland,” Stiles said, “Either that, or the Den, as in Wolf’s Den and Pub.”

“Not subtle,” Oliver said.

“Neither is ‘the Command Center’, ‘Ninja Ops’, ‘Rootcore’, or ‘the Power Chamber,” Stiles replied, “But referencing the Den will make people think of the restaurant and microbrewery.  JKP was the most popular independent pizza place in Ocean’s Bluff and _how_ many people figured out they were Rangers?  Three.  Dom saw them morph, Luan was confused for Theo, and Fran walked in and saw RJ’s security system.  How many people figured out the Originals?”

“Every time I go back to Angel Grove, I find out more and more people figured it out,” Oliver grunted.

“Let me tell you something I learned,” Stiles said, “teenagers with secrets are the most obvious people on the planet.  I still don’t know how so many people remained oblivious to…  what was going on back before I left.  The best way to keep a secret is to make a sensible cover.”

“Karate club,” Oliver said.

“Not going to work,” Stiles said after a moment, “that would have to be school sponsored and it would take ten minutes to find out that the club started with the Rangers showed up, and if it has a limited membership it’s even _more_ suspicious.  A mutual workplace is actually one of the best choices because people then _expect_ you to at least know each other and if you have training at or near your place of work you can say you were ‘at work’ and not be lying.”

“How do you think like that?”  Oliver asked.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” Stiles said with a laugh.

They pulled up in front of the Den and got out.  “Come on,” Stiles said, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.  “I need to check something real quick, Neverland is the second door on the right and straight up the stairs.”

“Seriously?”  Oliver asked.

“What?”  Stiles asked as he shut off the alarm.

“Second door to the right and straight up the stairs,”  Oliver said, “is that some kind of joke?”

“I don’t think so,” Stiles replied.

“Isn’t Neverland the second _star_ to the right and straight on until morning?”  Oliver said.

“What, oh,” Stiles blinked, “I didn’t think of that.”

“Peter Pan is the twin’s favorite play,” Oliver said as he walked through the pub.  “That’s also their favorite way to give directions.”

“Huh,” Stiles said as he headed for the brewery.  “I’ll be right up, I promise.”  He let the brewery door slam behind him as he walked through.  Everything was clean, and when he peeked in at the fermenting drinks, everything looked the way it should.  He looked at the gleaming brew pots for a long moment, then left the brewery.  Beer could wait today.

Oliver was exploring the computers when Stiles came up, “So, why did you need the computers?”

“After the first kidnapping attempt, we put trackers on the twins,” Oliver replied.  “I haven’t had time to cover someone putting in the systems for me track them on my own.”

“You, what, RFID chipped them?”  Stiles asked.

“It actually creates a signal through the Power,” Oliver said, “like the morphers.”

“Ah,” Stiles said.  He called up the satellite that was in geosynchronous orbit over Beacon Hills and switched it over to track Power in the city and preserve.  Karyna and Marci were still at the townhouse, given the almost overlapping red and blue/yellow dots.  He spotted himself, yellow/purple, and the almost overlapping dot that was black, white, red, and green.  “Scanning for power signatures,” he said aloud.

A pink/white dot and a red/black dot appeared on the screen.

“That’s them,” Oliver said, pointing at the dots.

“They’re out at the Lost Mine Lake,” Stiles said, “that’s weird.”

“What?”  Oliver asked.

“That lake is twenty miles from the nearest parking lot, and another ten from town itself.  There’s no way they could be out there, not with the terrain.”  Stiles pointed, “Scott and I hiked out there once, and it took us three days round trip.”  He smiled a bit, “Dad and Melissa were so pissed.  We were only supposed to be gone overnight.”

“Then how did they get out there?”  Oliver asked.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, “but I know someone who can-“ He went still.

“What?”  Oliver asked.

Stiles switched the screen to refocus on the gryphon they’d been tracking.  It was hovering over the Lost Mine Lake.  “No way,” he said.

“Is that a gryphon?”  Oliver asked.

“Maybe,” Stiles replied as he hit the phone line button, “Call Scott.”

“Stiles,” Oliver said.

“Hold on,” Stiles replied.

“Hello?”  Scott said, sounding incredibly sleepy.

“Scott, its Stiles.  I think our winged friend has been busy and it’s kind of bad,” Stiles said.  “How fast can you get the Pack to the Den, please?”

“Give us fifteen,” Scott replied.

“Thanks,” Stiles said.  He hung up and dialed Karyna.

“Walsh,” Karyna said.

“Stilinski,” Stiles replied, “we’ve got a problem.  Get to the Den and I’ll explain.  Bring the jewelry, we might need it.”

“Got it,” Karyna said.

“Stiles?”  Oliver asked.

Stiles glanced over at Oliver, “I’m only telling you this because if what I think is about to go down happens, Lexi and Leigh are going to find out anyways.”

“All right,” Oliver said slowly.

“What do you know about werewolves?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Tommy has a bigger role to play than I expected.  
> Also, this is the Triad...
> 
> [](http://s915.photobucket.com/user/guardianofhope/media/Banner_zps4e428550.jpg.html)


	13. Fur and Feathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was a delay for this. I finished up two other stories that had been bothering me. Now back to this. I might slow my posting a bit because I still have six other WIP that I don't want to abandon.

“Stiles, what’s going on?”  Scott asked as he followed Karyna and Marci into the room.  “Who is this?”

Stiles smiled, “This is Doctor Tommy Oliver, the new science teacher.  He’s also the father of twins, Lexi and Leigh.  They’re freshmen at the high school.”  He pointed at the screen, “This morning between six and eight, Lexi and Leigh vanished on their way to school.  At nine am, they showed up here at Lost Mine Lake.  Also, present at 9 am was our friend the gryphon.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Isaac said, “a gryphon who kidnaps children?”

“To be fair, he is brainwashed,” Marci said as she pressed her shoulder against Stiles.

“What’s the plan?”  Scott asked.

“Karyna?”  Stiles asked, glancing over at his friend.

Karyna frowned as she studied the screen for a long moment.  “How much time do you guys need to get out there, Scott?”

“Derek, Isaac, Danny, Malia, and I can make it in about two, two and a half hours,” Scott said.

“Stiles, any news on breaking the control?”  Karyna asked.

“Deaton and our friend the Knight are still looking, but we’re stumped,” Stiles admitted.  “We don’t know how he’s being controlled, and there’s no universal spell.  I could probably overpower and break it that way, but I’m not back to full yet and while I probably wouldn’t suffer any permanent damage, I’d prefer to keep that as our option of last resort.”

Karyna nodded and closed her eyes for a moment.  “Okay, Scott, here’s what I’m thinking.  You weres are better equipped for distracting the gryphon.  You can keep it back from the kids better than Stiles, Marci, and I.  We’d do better getting Lexi and Leigh.”

“Besides, I’ve met them,” Marci said, “they’ll be slightly more likely to cooperate with me.”

“Exactly,” Karyna nodded.  “That’s what I’m thinking plan A is, distract the gryphon, get the twins, and get back.  Plan B is the opposite.  We three take the gryphon while you grab the twins and run.  Plan C is Stiles breaks the mind control.  Plan D is to kill the gryphon.  How does that sound to everyone?”

“What about the gryphon?”  Scott asked.

“We leave it,” Karyna said, “we take a bit longer to try to dig up more on breaking the mind control, or Stiles gets back to a hundred percent.  We just warn the Sheriff and keep our ears open for missing kids.  We don’t need to kill it today, not unless it’s the only way to keep Lexi and Leigh safe.”

“The twins can help with that,” Doctor Oliver offered hesitantly, “You ninjas know that.  If you need them to, just ask.”

Karyna nodded.  “Any questions, complaints, or comments?”  She eyed Marci and Stiles for a minute, “Relating to the mission of course.”

Marci and Stiles snapped their fingers in unison, muttering, “Darn.”

“I’ll stay here with Doctor Oliver,” Kira offered, “I can’t move as fast as the others.”

Marci bounced on her toes with a grin, “You can help coordinate, we’ll give the Pack communicators and we can pass messages back and forth if we need to.”

“Right,” Karyna said, “let’s do this.”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Stiles and his friend arrived at the Lake moments before Scott launched himself at the gryphon with a roar.  He crouched beside the tree Karyna was perched in, waiting for orders.  “The twins are on a ledge over the lake,” Karyna said, “it looks like the gryphon’s building a nest there.”

“Good spot,” Stiles said, “most people don’t come this far in.”  He pushed a frond of Mare’s Tail out of his face and watched the fight.

“Well, this isn’t getting things done,” Karyna said, “oh, ouch!”

“What?”  Stiles asked.

“Danny just got slammed into a tree.  He’s getting up though.”  Karyna said.

“So, what’s the plan?”  Stiles asked.

“Marci, you get over to the twins and let them know we’re here.  Stiles and I will follow.  We’ll have to carry them back.  I don’t think they could make the run, even if they are invisible.  Once we’re back on this side, we signal the pack and head back in.”  Karyna dropped lightly out of the tree, almost hovering before she settled down.

“That’s me gone then,” Marci said, vanishing in a teal blur.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders and shook out his arms, then bounced on his toes.  His leather uniform moved with him like a second skin and Stiles smiled a little.

“All right, let’s go,” Karyna ordered as she leaped forward.

Stiles followed instantly.

The Pack and the gryphon were fighting at the tree line when Stiles stopped on the ledge.  Marci was examining one of the twins’ scratched arm while the other hugged Karyna.  “Everything okay?”  Stiles asked.

“Gryphon got Lexi with his claws,” Karyna said.  “We wanted to make sure ze was bandaged before we ran.”  She looked at Leigh, “Are you ready to go?”

Leigh pulled back and sniffed a little, “Yeah, I am.”

“On my back then,” Karyna said, “it’ll be easiest.”

Stiles helped Leigh settle on Karyna’s back, “Keep your eyes closed,” he advised the teen, “You’ll get sick otherwise.”

Leigh nodded nervously and squeezed his eyes shut as Karyna left.

“There,” Marci said, “that’s bandaged.  Stiles!  Look out!”

Stiles spun and stared at the sight of Derek and the gryphon soaring towards him.  He barely gestured, just threw himself into the ground to get out of the way.  He could feel the thud of the earth as werewolf and gryphon hit the ledge and he carefully eased himself to the top of the soil just into to hear the gryphon roll over, and then Marci and someone else screamed.

Stiles leaped from the ground like a shot, hand springing over the gryphon like a pommel horse and landing on the edge, looking down into Lost Mine Lake.

Lexi was falling and screaming while Marci had turned her fall into a graceful dive.  Stiles started lunge forward when something large and feathery shot past him and over the edge.  The gryphon dove, grabbing Lexi and then powering his way back into the sky, turning back towards the ledge.  Stiles stood, watching and calling up his magic, as the gryphon neatly dropped Lexi, on zir feet no less, on the ledge before settling beside her.  “Are you all right?”  The gryphon asked.

Stiles blinked.

“I- I think so,” Lexi said.

“Are you back with us, Master Gryphon?”  Stiles asked as he approached carefully.

The gryphon stared at Stiles for a long moment, “I suppose I am.”

“Do you know what happened to you?”  Stiles continued as he extended his senses to the gryphon.

“Something controlled me,” the gryphon said, “I- I did things.  Will you please stop that, I am in my right mind, I quite assure you.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said, “I just… you can never be sure.”

“Like you would know, human,” the gryphon said.

Stiles crossed his arms, “I know, gryphon, probably better than you.  I am Master Stiles Stilinski of Beacon Hills, Earth Ninja.  This is Lexi Oliver of Earth, Child of Tommy Oliver.”

“I am Skye Windfire,” the gryphon said.  “I was looking for a new rookery to start a family when I was possessed.”

“That lake is cold!”  Marci announced, appearing beside Stiles and dripping wet.  “What’s going on?”

“Skye Windfire, this is Master Marci Rhee, Water Ninja,” Stiles said, “Marci, this is Skye Windfire.  I think he broke the control on his own when Lexi was in danger.”

“Awesome,” Marci said.

Stiles glanced past the gryphon as the confused Pack, and the quickly approaching Karyna and Leigh.  “Master Windfire, may I present the Beacon Hills Pack.  Alpha Scott McCall and Betas Derek Hale, Danny Mahealani, and Isaac Lahey, and Werecoyote Malia Tate.  Also, Master Karyna Walsh, Air Ninja and Leigh Oliver of Earth, son of Tommy Oliver.”

“Alpha,” Windfire said, “I apologize if my actions caused harm to anyone while I was not myself.  I need to rest and heal a bit, but I will move on soon after.”

“You said you were looking for a rookery,” Scott said, “and it looked like you were building here.”

“This, this is a good place,” Windfire said.

“We’re not monsters, Master Windfire,” Scott said after a moment.  “We protect our town, we love each other, and we keep the territory clean.  If you could find it in you to help with that, I think an arrangement could be made.  You’re an impressive combatant, and Beacon Hills can always use a little extra protection.”

“I would be willing to talk terms,” Windfire said after a moment.

“I have some things to settle back home, and Lexi and Leigh need to return to their father,” Scott said, “I will return in a few days to discuss those terms.”

“I could bring them back,” Windfire offered.  “I remember how far the town is from here.”

“Maybe to the edge of the preserve,” Scott said.

“Do you two mind?”  Stiles asked the twins softly.

“Depends on how,” Lexi said after a moment, “I’m not that keen to be dangled from the air like a package.”

“On my back, actually,” Windfire said.  “If Master Stiles would oblige magical ropes, I can fly you both on my back.”

“Then yes please,” Leigh said.

It took twenty minutes to get the twins settled on Windfire’s back, and then the gryphon was in the air.

“We’ll meet them there,” Karyna told Scott, “and we’ll make sure Lexi and Leigh are settled.  That’s more our side of things anyways.  Why don’t we meet you back at the pub?  There’ll be beer and we’ll pick up something to eat as well.”

“All right,” Scott said.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Danny was heading into the pub with the Pack when his phone rang.  He glanced at it and slowed, “Hey, I’ll catch up,” he told the others.  “I just need to take this.”

“Sure,” Scott said.

Danny brought the phone to his ear, “Hey babe, what’s up?”

“Danny, something’s wrong,” Ethan said, he sounded like he was panting.  “My alpha’s gone crazy or something.  He accused me of cheating with his mate.”

“But isn’t she…”  Danny asked.

“She is!”  Ethan replied, “I don’t understand.  I’m not into women and she’s a friend at best.  You know I would never.”

“I know,” Danny said, “I know.  Where are you?”

“I’m on the road on my way out of Blue Bay Harbor.  He kicked me out of the Pack.”  Ethan whined softly under his breath.

“Hold on, Ethan,” Danny said.  He pushed open the doors and hurried to where Scott and Stiles were standing, looking tense.  “Scott, I need a favor.”

“What’s up?”  Scott asked.

“Remember Ethan?  Like in Ethan and Aidan?”  Danny said, “He’s in a pack down south.  We’ve been hanging out when I go down for business and something’s wrong.  His Alpha claimed that his mate was cheating on him with Ethan and kicked him out of the Pack.  He’s got nowhere to go.”

“Tell him to come here,” Scott said instantly.  “We may not have always trusted the twins, but Aidan and Ethan came through in a big way in the end.  He’s always had a place in the Pack if he needed it.”

“Ethan, you heard that?”  Danny asked.

“Yeah,” Ethan said.  “I’m on my way.  I should be there by dark.  Tell Scott I said thank you.  I love you Danny.  See you soon.”

“See you soon, Ethan,” Danny replied before hanging up.  “He’ll be here by dark.”

“Looks like we’ll be sharing that cup of coffee after all,” Stiles mused.  “I’m going to get some more beer.”


	14. Fear of God

"Stiles, I don't care what you're doing, we need your help."  Scott said as he burst into the brewery.

"Are we suddenly not locking the doors?"  Stiles asked as he strained a new batch of beer into the fermenter.  "Hi Scott, how are you?"

"Danny's been arrested."

"I know."  Stiles put the pot to cool and lifted the fermenter.

"What the hell?  How did you know that?"  Scott asked.

"I approved it."  Stiles said as he staggered over to the door to the room with the other barrels.  "Danny was hacking into very sensitive information, the kind of thing that shouldn't be released to the general public without permission of the persons involved.  There are children who  _will be_  harmed if Danny let anything slip.  I said they should put the fear of God in him to get him to stop looking into things that could put him in jail for life.  Hopefully that'll teach him to leave it be."

“Stiles,” Scott said.

Stiles slammed the door closed, “No, Scott.  Imagine there was a database of every wolf every born or bitten, can you picture it?  A place where your name, and Derek’s and Danny, and Jackson’s little girl, they’re all listed.  Someone tries to hack that list, maybe they’re a hunter, maybe they’re just a curious dumbass, you can’t know which.  You don’t know if they’ll wikileaks the whole database regardless of consequences.  That’s what Danny almost did.  He almost hacked a database of people’s name, their addresses, all their personal information.  I get it, he wanted to know about Doctor O, but he did it wrong.  Completely and utterly wrong.  If that information got out, people would die, _children_ would die.  So yeah, I said, put the fear of God in Danny.  Show him that he needs to fucking stop and why.  Point in fact, I said they should look real fucking hard at you and Derek, because Danny has _never_ struck me as the type to pull a hack like that without someone urging him to do it.  Not since the last time he got arrested for it.”

Scott just stared, but Stiles wasn’t done yet.

“There’s this woman I know, she’s on that database, and her best friends should be.  They’re not though.  Do you want to know why?  Because the people who would want that kind of data?  They took those four kids, they were barely sixteen, and they’ve left them broken.  One’s dead, one’s insane, one’s brain-dead, and the last was mind wiped.  Technically he’s functional, but he has no memory of the woman or the others.  He’s a perfect drone.  If that organization gets those other names, they’ll do the same, or worse.”  He glared at Scott, so close they were practically nose to nose.  “So yeah, Scott.  I said put the fear of God in him.”  He stepped away, brushing past the Alpha hard enough to make Scott stumble.  “Don’t worry, Scott.  I’m not going to let anyone do the same to your pack.  If they try, I’ll let you put the fear of God in them.”

“Didn’t you already do that, with Doctor O?”  Scott called after him.

“One of Doc’s protégés is best friends with the Mystic Force Red Ranger,” Stiles said, resting a hand on the door.  “Doc already knew about a lot of things.  He’s even met a Vampire queen.  Werewolves were like two-dollar bills, you hear about them but you never actually see one.”  He glanced back at Scott, “If Doc wants you to know about him, he’ll tell you himself.  Now if you excuse me, I still have work to do.”  He smirked, “This is a business after all.”


	15. Hello Goodbye

“Hey Stiles, it’s your dad.  I can’t make lunch; I’m in the middle of a case.  I’ll call you later.”

Stiles frowned as he erased the message; his dad had been busier than usual lately.  He knew his dad had a fully staffed department now, able and willing to handle cases without him.  He tapped the phone against his chin, wondering if there wasn’t something that could be done to get his dad a somewhat lighter schedule.

“Stiles,” someone called.

Stiles looked up and glanced up and down the street, finally spotting Ethan waving from beside a red car.  “Ethan,” Stiles said, “how was the drive?”  He straightened up and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Long,” Ethan said, “I understand why you always hesitated on the drive.”  They shook hands and Ethan looked around, “Where’s Danny?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, “we need to talk about that.  Why don’t you come inside?”

“Stiles,” Ethan said as he followed Stiles into the brewpub.  “Where’s Danny?”

“He’s not hurt,” Stiles said, “but he’s been arrested for hacking an international military database.”

“Jesus,” Ethan said.

Stiles nodded as he ducked behind the bar and began pouring coffee.  “I’m not supposed to talk about it, but I think Danny will be fine.  There are… circumstances that make a difference.”  He slid the mug across the bar, “Ethan, I need you to trust me, okay?”

Ethan hesitated then took the mug.

“By the way, Scott’s pissed about it.  He wants me to do something, but I won’t.  Danny hacked a database that makes witness protection look like Facebook, there are consequences to those actions, and I agreed that Danny should be arrested.  It’s a lesson that needs to be taught.”

Ethan stared at Stiles, “Danny wouldn’t hack something like that.”

Stiles poured a splash of Irish whiskey in his coffee, “He wouldn’t do it voluntarily, no.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, the door slammed open.  “Can we put wolfsbane in his coffee?”  Lydia asked as she walked into the pub.

“No,” Stiles said, “we can’t.”  He poured her a mug and held up the whiskey.

“Yes,” Lydia said.  “He’s being ridiculous.  It’s as if he’s stunned that someone who broke the law is getting in trouble for it.”

Stiles widened his eyes, “No, how horrible.  You’d think breaking the law was a _crime.”_

Lydia smiled at him and turned to Ethan, “How have you been Ethan?”

Stiles sipped his coffee, wondering if they’d seen each other since that horrible semester junior year.  He thought they might have, but he’d never orchestrated a meet up.  Loosing Aidan had hit them both hard, and he hadn’t wanted to hurt the woman he still loved dearly, and the man he’d come to respect.

“I’m all right,” Ethan said, sipping his coffee.  “I’m still not sure what happened with my Alpha.  He knows I don’t like women that way.”

“I’m sure whatever happened, we can sort it out,” Lydia said.

“Do you have a place to stay?”  Stiles asked.

“Danny gave me a key to his apartment ages ago,” Ethan said, “I was planning to stay there for now.  I don’t have a plot of personal money.  My pack card’s been cut off already.”

Stiles nodded a little.

“Well, we’re hiring.”

All three of them jumped as Karyna and Marci came out the door to Neverland.  Karyna smiled, “I mean, I don’t imagine you’re the type to wait tables, but Stiles could use an assistant in the back.”

“Karyna, we said,” Stiles began.

“Our investor came through,” Karyna replied cheerfully.  “We can afford for you to have an assistant.”  She met Stiles eyes, “Come on Peter Pan, you know you need the help.”

Stiles had to wonder which of their so-called investors had offered up cash.  He didn’t think it would be RJ, he’d said something about advice being more fruitful.  Bulkmeier, call me Bulk, had been more genial, but he had admitted that he had hired people to handle his finances.  Neither of them had seemed the sort to invest more after the initial start up money.

“Sure Tink.  Thanks.”  He turned to Ethan, “How do you feel about learning to make beer?  I don’t think the smell will be that bad, and hey, making beer is an awesome hobby.”

Ethan tilted his head, clearly considering it.

“We can start you at fifteen an hour easy,” Karyna said, “and that’s with paying a little over for our other staff.”

“That’s,” Ethan began.

Marci cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, they’re so pushy.  Why don’t you take some to think about it, maybe come by when Stiles starts brewing and see if it’s something you want to do.”

Ethan nodded, “That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’m Marci,” Marci added, “I don’t think we’ve actually met.”

“Karyna,” Karyna said, “I’m sorry.  I forgot you didn’t know us.”

“Ethan,” Ethan said shortly.

Marci smiled as she tilted her head a little, “We know _of_ you, what with you and Stiles having coffee dates every Thursday and all.”

“Not dates,” Stiles said automatically.

“Somehow, I think we came in at exactly the wrong moment,” Peter announced, sounding almost gleeful.

“Peter,” Stiles said, glancing at his backpack.  He sipped his coffee casually.  “I wasn’t aware you were invited.”

“Scott said we should all say hello to Ethan,” Peter replied as Derek and Scott followed him, followed by Malia and Kira.

“Where’s Isaac?”  Marci asked.

“Working,” Scott said, “he’s been getting more business lately.”

“That’s good right?”  Marci asked carefully.

“He owns a cemetery and funeral home,” Scott replied grimly.

“As lively as this conversation is,” Peter said, “I am here for a reason other than to meet Ethan again.”  Everyone looked at him in surprised and Stiles began to sidle over to his bag.  He still didn’t trust the resurrected wolf.  “I know most of you have had the mates conversation,” he said quietly, “and Derek must remember that my wife, though I loved her dearly, was _not_ my mate.”  He closed his eyes, actually looking almost tortured for a moment.  “While I was traveling this past year, I met someone, her name is Anna.”

Stiles glanced at Scott, who was frowning.

“Anna is my mate.  She knows, as does her Alpha, what happened here in Beacon Hills.  They’ve offered me a place in their pack that I may finish healing.  I know that none of us are on good terms any more, and I regret that it was my own actions that created this distrust.  Perhaps in the future, Alpha McCall, I might be permitted to contact Derek, Malia, or Cora if they should so choose?”

Scott swallowed, looking at his packmates, and then at Stiles, then turned back to Peter, “If Malia, Derek, and Cora are willing to speak with you, it will be their decision.  Returning to Beacon Hills will be a different discussion entirely.”

“Thank you,” Peter said.  “I’ll have movers empty out my apartment within the week.  Maybe, when I am better healed, we can find a path to reconciliation.”

“Perhaps,” Scott said tightly.

Peter nodded to them and looked at Malia and Derek for a long moment before he turned and walked out of the pub.  Stiles leaned over and saw Peter hug a pretty woman with dark brown hair that had two silver wings that had been pulled back from her face.  She kissed his cheek, laughed, and pushed him into a silver SUV.

“Well, that was something,” Marci said.

“So, what were you talking about?”  Scott asked.

“Ethan and I used to have coffee on Thursday at adjacent tables,” Stiles said.  “His pack territory was up against my Academy grounds.  It was not a date.  We just happen to have coffee at the same time in the same location.”

“I’m with Danny,” Ethan said, “If we aren’t mates, then we’re both idiots.  Also, my Alpha liked to keep in contact with a Spark like Stiles.  I might pass on messages from my Alpha from time to time, but it wasn’t like we were actually talking to each other.”

“What are you looking for here,” Scott asked quietly.

“Just some place safe,” Ethan said, “I need to get my feet under me, maybe make some cash of my own.  Danny gave me a key to his apartment years ago, and Stiles offered me a job.  I don’t know that I could stay in Beacon Hills for the rest of my life, but long enough to get my feet on the ground and my head on straight would be nice.  I want to be with Danny.”

Scott nodded, “I offer you the protection of the McCall Pack while you are here.  I assume Stiles told you about Danny?”

“That he was arrested for hacking?”  Ethan said, “Yeah, Stiles told me.  He also explained why he agrees with it.  I agree with Stiles, and I would bet that Danny does too.”

Scott scowled, but he didn’t say anything.

“Is there any other reason we’re all here?”  Stiles asked, pouring a fresh cup of coffee.  “And where’s Jackson?”

“Jackson is trying to find a way out of Beacon Hills,” Kira said, “but all the rental centers are out of cars for a few days, and the bus station closed six months ago from a lack of business here.”

“Damn, that sucks,” Stiles said.

“That being said,” Marci said, “we have to get ready for tomorrow, we’re doing interviews all day.  Unless you all want to pitch in and help organize everything.”

“I need to check on the brewery,” Stiles said, “want to come with, Ethan?”

“Sure,” Ethan said, putting his cup on the counter.

“Great,” Stiles said.  “The first thing you need to be aware of when it comes to a brewery is that everything has to be very clean.”


End file.
